Curse of Phobetor
by Water-smurf
Summary: Second part of Oneiroi Series. Vaarsuvius wanted to forget the whole thing happened before it got dangerous, but fate had a different take on things. What do you do when the one person you had to leave behind is the only one who you can hold onto?
1. Chapter 1

"I've made my diagnosis."

"Good." Vaarsuvius irritably tied up a red robe, hiding a pale body from view and shivering despite the heat, brushing off stray sand grains and glaring a little at the flimsy tent surrounding them. "I still do not understand why I had to strip and allow you to touch me."

The human cleric sighed softly, shaking her head in a very beleaguered fashion and rolling her eyes. "Believe me, it was essential."

"Well please tell me what is wrong, prescribe the proper medication, and tell me what this costs so that I may go back about my business."

Blackwing popped into existence on his master's shoulder, having disappeared to avoid seeing the elf's naked body. He gave his master an affectionate little nip on the ear, provoking a twitch from it and a half-hearted scowl from Vaarsuvius, but little else. The human woman shifted her weight, frowning. "You won't be doing much, I hope. You're pregnant."

"What I do is none of your…" Vaarsuvius paused, frowning at the woman and the tenseness leaving thin shoulders. "Excuse me?"

"Pregnant. You are pregnant."

"…" Vaarsuvius's mouth opened to speak, then closed. Blackwing let out a loud squawk, jumping up and flapping his wings in distress, jabbering things in raven that no one wanted to understand.

"Are you sure about this?"

"Yes. I used a spell to make sure, and all of the symptoms check out. Mild cramping, backache, nausea, swollen and tender breasts—"

"I do not need my symptoms reiterated!" Vaarsuvius's pale face flushed, reluctant to be reminded why Durkon hadn't been the one to go to with the symptoms, the elf lightly jumping down from the examination table. "Well, do you know where I could procure termination?"

The woman's lips tightened a little, but she refrained from spitting out what was obviously going through her head. "I wouldn't suggest trying to do anything here," she said carefully, running a hand through her dull brown hair. "Your particular sub-race of high elf is rare around this area. The herbs we have for pregnancy termination are meant for humans and could be very dangerous for you to try to use—they'd be much too strong and could kill you. You can't try a surgical procedure here because the tents don't keep out the sand; grains could get inside you and cause a potentially fatal infection. Not even the best healer could take out every sand grain."

"So you suggest that I travel while with child?"

"I suggest that you stay with the father until you give birth. Surely you can wait until then."

Vaarsuvius made a quick dismissive gesture, Blackwing landing on a small shoulder with another squawk. "My business cannot wait so long, and being with the father is completely out of the question."

"Ma'am, if you need to travel, at least inform the healer in your group that—"

"No," the elf said bluntly. "My situation is my own business. It will not impede my performance."

"You'll start getting bigger, your breasts will start hurting more, your speed will diminish, your nausea can turn into out-and-out morning sickness, your back will get more pained… I am certain that this will hurt your performance. Delay the adventure or step out of it."

"That is not an option for me." Vaarsuvius brushed the sand off of the red robe. "Tell me how to handle the symptoms and give me your price."

The woman sighed, closing her eyes in annoyance. "I have some prenatal vitamins that double as a treatment for the pain. Stay away from alcohol and monsters that cause paralysis, intense heat, intense cold or poison you. I hope I don't need to tell you what an induced miscarriage can do to an elf of your build."

"Quite honestly, I forget that I am capable of child bearing most of the time. I have never paid attention to such trivial matters."

"It's not trivial now. You're too slim and physically frail to handle childbirth without the help of a healer, and an induced miscarriage would be extremely dangerous. You're too thin and your hips are too slender—it wouldn't pass properly and you would either tear something or get a serious infection."

"Spare me the details, please." Vaarsuvius scowled a little, slightly suspicious of the cleric's motivations behind her vehement discouragement of anything that would result in the loss of the fetus, but knowing nothing about pregnancy or the wideness or slenderness of hips, the elf had to concede without a fight. "I hardly care about infertility. It was never my intention to have children in the first place."

"You'll risk more than infertility, especially out in the desert. Remember the sand grains I told you about?"

"You do not need to repeat yourself. You do not want me to terminate the pregnancy, intentionally or no." Vaarsuvius frowned, starting to pace a little. "You certainly know more about this than I, however, so I am forced to trust your advice. I shall do as you say."

"Good. Listen, once you're out of the desert and in a sterile hospital, you can do what you like. There isn't a cleric's spell for termination, but there are people who can do it manually without hurting you in _hospitals_. Please don't try a home remedy."

"Madam, I am not a fool. What else can I do to deal with the symptoms?"

The cleric frowned. "Keep a good diet. Keep a good exercise routine. Try to not exert yourself." She turned and started rummaging in the trunks she kept in the corner of her tent. "And take these."

She straightened and handed over a simple glass jar filled with pink capsules, devoid of a label. "These are the prenatal vitamins I was talking about. A quick tip: you might want to keep the father's hands away from your breasts until after the birth. If they're that tender now, you're in for a rough ride."

Vaarsuvius flushed, trying to ignore the twinges of pain that merely came from the robes pressing against a small chest. "I do not believe that that shall be a problem." The elf took the vitamins carefully, putting them in a Bag of Holding attached to the inside of the red robe. "What is your price?"

"It's free of charge when it comes to pregnancy. Personal policy." The cleric ran a hand through her hair. "I really do think that you should tell your healer. Your hips are extremely thin and your weight is below the ideal of your gender, height, and species. Your body is going to take a beating with supporting a baby. And I urge you to tell the father."

"Neither will know if I have any say about it." Vaarsuvius dipped a delicate head carefully. "Thank you for your help."

The raven still grumbling in a bird language, the elf left.

---

"Pregnant? _Pregnant?!_"

"Blackwing, I do not want to talk about it."

"Screw _that!_ Vaarsuvius, this is serious!"

"I know."

Vaarsuvius irritably wrapped the red robe tighter around a pale body, glaring at the ground. "We need to procure diamond dust for Durkon. I believe I saw a shop selling spell components this way…"

"Oh no. No. No, no, no." Blackwing nipped the elf's ear impatiently, almost drawing blood. "You are _not_ changing the subject! You are _not_ ignoring this! Hell. No."

Vaarsuvius winced, rubbing the wounded ear. "If you are going to bite me, you are not allowed on my shoulder."

"Stop trying to change the subject!" Blackwing nipped the elf's finger, scraping through several layers of skin. Vaarsuvius jerked the hand back. "This is way bigger than some affair with the enemy, Vaarsuvius! You're pregnant! _Pregnant!_"

"I do not need you to tell me, infernal avian!"

Vaarsuvius plucked the raven off of the little shoulder, glaring at him fiercely. "I have enough to work with presently." The elf let the raven go. "This is a setback. I will deal with it on my own."

"Haven't you learned _anything?!_ Trying to do stuff like this on your own ends up badly!"

Blackwing's feathers were thoroughly fluffed to the point where he looked comically alike to a ball of fuzz trying to point at the elf sternly.

"This is a matter of my own body and I shall treat it as such."

"By going crazy and running off to an island on your own to get attacked by an angry mother dragon and make a deal with fiends?"

"There are not any islands nearby, so I suppose that that is out of the question," Vaarsuvius said dryly, walking past the bird.

"Vaarsuvius, slow down and think about this!"

"I cannot. If I start, I will not stop. It is better to ignore it and make sure that no one else knows."

"How do you expect to hide it?!" Blackwing flew up to the elf's shoulder again, digging his talons into the soft skin. "This is an interracial baby. You don't know how goblin pregnancy works. What if you need to give birth before the end of the journey?"

"The likelihood of that is almost nothing, considering the complexity of goblins and elves, including the length of elven pregnancy. It could not have been shortened so much. When this adventure is over, assuming that we will still exist and be rooted in the mortal world, I can simply terminate."

Blackwing threw up his wings. "What about Durkon?! You're going to start showing off symptoms. You're going to eat more, trance more, need painkillers when the backaches and headaches get worse… He's a cleric who specializes in healing for goodness's sake! He'll see that something's up!"

"I will curb my increased desire to consume anything other than what I usually do and will avoid trancing any longer than eight hours. I will do my best to cope with the pain, but I doubt that Mr. Thundershield will read so far into something as simple as an increased intake of painkillers as assume that I must be in the condition I am in."

"And the morning sickness?"

"My parent once informed me that she did not suffer from it while she was carrying me. Assuming that such things are genetic, I doubt that that will be an issue."

"V, you'll kill yourself like this! At the very least, you're going to need to eat and trance a little more!" Blackwing let out an irritable squawk. "You're going to be doing it for two, now!"

"At most, I can only be a few weeks along. I will be able to handle it without allowing too many outward signs to show." Vaarsuvius put a lock of royal purple hair behind a pointed, twitching ear, remembering the feel of a familiar scaled hand doing the same and aching a little for its touch. The elf crushed the feeling swiftly. "Let us focus on the diamond dust."

Blackwing huffed in irritation. "One last question before you go on your inevitable downward spiral and I'm stuck pulling you out again—you're going to a gate. Xykon is going to go to a gate. Redcloak is going to be with Xykon. What do you say if you guys meet up at the same gate? It's his kid, unless you've been doing something that I'm not aware of."

"He is the father, I assure you." Vaarsuvius stopped short behind a tent, frozen in place and eyes closed. Blackwing shifted nervously, tempted to ask if something was going on but somehow aware that words would shatter whatever it was the mage was doing. The elf brought one pale knuckle up and bit it hard enough to leave marks, letting out a deep breath and opening violet eyes again. "He is the father. He will not know, though. There was nothing in our affair besides passion, understanding, and lust. I doubt that he cares as much as he seems to think he does. A child would only make it even more complicated for him and myself. I will not inform him of any of this."

"Remember that thing about 'probability serving drama like a copper-piece harlot'? Yeah. We all know that he's going to find out, V. And the Order, too. Rule of Drama demands it."

Vaarsuvius lapsed into silence.

"Hide it all you want. You know I'm right. When he finds out, what are you going to say?"

The elf remained silent.

"Well?"

"Nothing."

Blackwing frowned, letting out a confused warble from deep in his throat. "Come again?"

"Nothing. If we are in a situation where he finds out, we are also in a situation where we are fighting. The affair was just that—an affair. Nothing long or meaningful. I made a mistake and put too much trust in spells to protect me from problems such as this. He held back only once to allow me to escape. He will not do so again. If he finds out, that is another reason to kill me." Vaarsuvius sighed softly. "I was too weak to kill him once. Even if this child is his, I will not allow myself to be so feeble-hearted again. If he finds out, nothing will change—I will try to kill him and he will try to kill me. Only one will come back this time."

The elf straightened, brushing off the red robes and starting off again. "I have no desire to speak anymore of this."

Blackwing let out a sigh, nipping the tip of the elf's ear gently. "I guess I'm sticking with you through this again."

Vaarsuvius gave the raven a quick stroke on the wing. That said more than words would.

The elf briskly walked into a magic components shop, stepping past a fat wizard with a white turban and a frog on his shoulder…

A/N

Beginning the next part of the series. Hope you enjoy. ;)


	2. Chapter 2

_Water ran down Vaarsuvius's body, hot against pale skin, making it turn red. Both parents were showering with their child, Other Parent tossing wet blue hair over his shoulder and squeezing shampoo into his palm. "Suvie, let me look at you." _

_Vaarsuvius didn't want to. The child's chest was getting a little bigger, like Parent's, and it felt wrong for anyone else to see it like that, like it was a disease of some sort. The apprentice mage didn't want to see Other Parent wet and without clothes for the same reason—the foreignness of his body made the child's gut jerk uncomfortably. _

_Parent noted the child's reluctance to move thin arms away from the growing chest and come closer so Other Parent could wash the short purple hair, and she only smiled, kneeling down and starting to rub Vaarsuvius's back with soap. "Is Suvie feeling modest? Your body's a beautiful thing. Let your parents see how beautiful it is." _

_Vaarsuvius didn't want to. Vaarsuvius wanted to jump out of the shower, grab a towel, and wait until Parent and Other Parent were gone before bathing. But the child instead allowed the thin arms to drop. _

_"It's not so bad, is it?" Other Parent smiled, gently rubbing the shampoo in the apprentice's hair, careful to keep it from getting into big violet eyes. Vaarsuvius had to admit that it felt nice, but at the same time weird. "I don't want you to ever feel embarrassed about your body, Suvie. Especially around Parent and I. We love every inch of you, no matter what anyone else says about it."_

_Vaarsuvius stared at Parent's 'intimate areas', unable to look away, wondering if that was what the naked child body would look like in a hundred years. Parent noticed her child's attention, smiling and continuing to wash the little elf's body with soap. "It hurts a little now, Suvie, while they're growing. But soon yours will be just like mine, round and good for children. Would you like to touch them?"_

_The little child quickly shook a wet head, sending droplets of water everywhere. Parent chuckled softly, making sure to wash behind Vaarsuvius's pointed ears. "You're so modest, Suvie. Touch anything you like—we don't mind your curiosity." As if to punctuate her point, Parent started washing her child's 'intimate areas' gently._

_Vaarsuvius couldn't help but wonder what Aarindarius would think of this if the wizard ever knew._

"But first, I think I'd like to see you without that tatty robe on. I'm still not quite sure you're a girl."

Vaarsuvius kept violet eyes fixed on the approaching necromancer, but the feel of the zombies' cold flesh and the scent of rotting were overwhelming, making already-weak knees practically fold. These were the corpses of the people that Vaarsuvius had been responsible for protecting. They had trusted the Order to keep them from this abominable un-life, to keep their spouses, siblings, parents, children, friends and family safe. But they hadn't been safe.

The elf had thought that Redcloak's initial touches and looks were cold. They weren't. Not compared to this. They had life and a heartbeat, even if they weren't softened with affection. The only heartbeats these shadows had were the heartbeats of the maggots embedded in them.

"If you touch me, I will not hesitate in sending you to oblivion."

Two completely different eyes sparkled, black lips curling almost grotesquely. The undead humans' grips seemed to tighten, as if the last sliver of their independent thoughts and desires focused fully on punishing the so-called hero meant to save them.

"I'll do more than touch, probably. I'm open."

Vaarsuvius could tell by the tightening of grip that the lost souls relished this punishment.

_"Help us, please!"_

_"Help us!"_

_so much smoke and sulfur and metal and blood and oh great elven gods the blood was everywhere why was V frozen why oh why the elf was supposed to protect them why wasn't there any magic left so many years wasted to find useless magic and OH GREAT ELVEN GODS THE BLOOD WHY COULDN'T V SAVE THEM_

_"Help—"_

_Blades slicing through an unprotected neck, forcing the head to fall off followed by a horrible fountain of blood and the smell was getting caught in the elf's nose until there wasn't anything left and the lips were still moving oh elven gods the decapitated head was still begging to be saved why was the elf so weak the dead were still imploring V for help_

_One of the soldiers dropped on the ground, smearing the ash-stained cobblestone with scarlet, letting the pool spread until it soaked the elf's slippers, marking the one to blame._

_The hobgoblins stabbed the woman soldier almost as an afterthought, running through the streets, content on wreaking more havoc, saying things that didn't make sense about help and animal gods and oh elven gods the lips on the head were still moving…_

_"Elf, if you're still here…"_

_Vaarsuvius jerked slightly, broken out of the half-insane thoughts, and stared wide-eyed at the woman on the ground. No spells left. No dwarf nearby. She was dying. The so-called almighty Vaarsuvius couldn't save one innocent life. _

_And the elf didn't even have the strength to kneel down and hold her hand while the red pool grew. _

_The woman's mouth opened, eyes bitter coals, voice dripping with pure, undiluted hatred. "I hope you choke on your useless goddamn magic…" _

_The pool blossomed in a flower, the dead woman at the center._

"No!"

Vaarsuvius jerked awake, entire body aching, limbs flailing to do something, anything, to make it all stop.

The cold desert air was all that responded. Vaarsuvius was alone in the tent. Haley had opted to spend the night with Elan.

A hard beak gently nuzzled the elf's sweaty neck, reminding Vaarsuvius that the 'alone' statement was far from true.

"The soldiers?"

The elf shook, concentrating on breathing. "Yes."

Vaarsuvius shook, wrapping the sleeping bag tighter around the clammy body and allowing the raven to press closer to a slender neck. The elf's abdomen was cramping up uncomfortably, to say nothing about the small chest. It was practically pulsing with pain, forcing the mage to stifle a soft whimper and shift so that there wasn't any pressure against the swelling tissue.

"You haven't had a nightmare in a long time," Blackwing pointed out softly, trying to conceal the concern evident in his voice.

"No. Not since Redcloak… well, not in a while." The elf gently rubbed the pained belly, noting that it seemed slightly more swollen than usual. But that would be impossible—people usually didn't show until the end of the first trimester. It was most likely just Vaarsuvius's imagination.

"Maybe you should get that checked out."

Vaarsuvius's head shook gently, instinctively veering away from the entire topic. "There is little Durkon can do about memories, Blackwing. Attempt to get some sleep."

"Are you going to trance?"

"In retrospect, I have seen what lack of trance will do to me. With my current condition, the effects will only be worse. I shall do my best."

Blackwing nipped the elf's ear very lightly before falling asleep again.

It wasn't the last time Vaarsuvius had nightmares that night.

* * *

"I don't care about the damn city and its rebellion! Your hobbos are all grown up now, Reddy. They can handle this by themselves." Xykon brandished a blood-stained holy symbol, the red lights in his sockets blazing. "And I have my phylactery again! Time to get off our asses and get to the next gate!"

Redcloak grimaced, understanding the casualty count of the battle for the phylactery even if Xykon didn't care. When the hobgoblins found the phylactery deep in the labyrinth underground, the rebels had attacked in a desperate attempt to get it. It had been a complete bloodbath. Tsukiko was nursing a broken arm and Jirix looked like he could barely stand on his own, blood covering his clothes and dripping onto the cold stone floor of the throne room.

The goblin reached out, touching his subordinate's shoulder. "Cure Serious Wounds."

His hand glowed briefly and Jirix steadied, flashing his leader a look of gratitude. "Thank you, sir."

"Reddy, catch."

Redcloak flinched in surprise but caught the slippery holy symbol thrown at him easily, staring down at it with confusion.

"Here's your chance to redeem yourself after the whole 'Running away from battle and then letting the whore and bastard that lost my phylactery in the first place escape' thing. Don't lose it this time."

Redcloak quietly put it on, wiping away what blood he could. He knew better than to argue. "Jirix, make sure that the clerics make rounds through the casualties. Heal absolutely everyone you can. You're going to need to take the reins for now and make sure we keep the city."

If Jirix was nervous about the responsibility on his shoulders, he didn't show it. "Yes, sir."

"Send in a wizard who can teleport us across the continents. They'll only be needed to get to the west."

Jirix nodded in acknowledgment and left to do as told. Redcloak looked to the monster's cage, frowning. "Do you have your umbrella?"

"Yeah…"

Redcloak wasn't quite sure why, but the monster seemed quieter since the prisoners escaped… Then again, a lot of things had changed since then…

He abruptly pulled himself out of that train of thought. Thinking of Vaarsuvius distracted him far too much.

Tsukiko opened up the monster's cage, allowing him out under the cover of his bright pink umbrella.

"Hey, Reddy, try not to screw up again this time."

Xykon's tone had all the characteristics of malicious teasing, but Redcloak heard the warning in there. The goblin sighed, acknowledging the lich's threat silently, and looked up at Tsukiko and the monster. "Tsukiko, get over here for a second so I can fix your arm, and both of you, if you need to go to the bathroom, do it now. Girard's Gate is in the middle of the desert and we're not going to stop for either of you because you didn't have foresight."

"Alright, Redcloak!"

* * *

_"Excuse me?"_

_Durkon paused in his trek through the market after Elan and Haley, turning around to see who was speaking to him. A cleric with a simple white tunic on and loose-fitting white pants stood in front of a tent, dull brown hair hanging limply to her shoulders. "Sir? Would you happen to be traveling with a purple-haired elf? A little hard to tell its gender with its clothes on? Rather brusque?"_

_"Aye." Durkon cocked his head, frowning suspiciously. "Why do ye ask?"_

_"Well, I believe I saw someone like you talking to that elf, and then it came to me because of a personal issue."_

_Durkon wasn't sure if he should be offended or worried. He settled on the latter. "Why did Vaarsuvius see ye? I'm hard-pressed t' get 'im t' come t' me even fer somethin' like a painkiller."_

_"So you are the healer?" She perked up immediately, brown face brightening. _

_"Aye. What's wrong wit' Vaarsuvius?" _

_"I can't tell you for confidentiality's sake." _

_Durkon frowned, tempted to tell her to stuff confidentiality, but he knew how secretive the mage could be. The guaranteed way to alienate Vaarsuvius would be to pry into what he (she?) explicitly considered his own business behind his back. _

_"But I think you should keep a close eye. And keep… Vaarsuvius, right? Keep Vaarsuvius away from monsters." The woman ran a hand through her hair nervously. "Make sure you're nearby at all times."_

_"Yer worryin' me. Why wouldn'a 'e come t' me aboot this?"_

_"I was hard-pressed to get the robe off. I guess that it was embarrassing." _

_"'E let ye see 'im wit'out th' robe?" Durkon frowned nervously, understanding the significance of the elf allowing himself to be seen like that. It must be serious. "I'm goin' t' be tryin' t' figure this out until I get 'im t' tell me, jus' so ye know."_

_"Good. I was hoping you would. If anyone asks, I didn't say anything."_

This conversation ran through Durkon's head as he quietly watched the elf twitch and whimper feverishly in his sleep, a raven curled up at his neck. Cold sweat gleamed off unusually pallid skin, leaving Durkon with the uncomfortable impression that Vaarsuvius was dying.

Two warring instincts, the instinct of a healer and the instinct of a dwarf, fought for his attention. One pointed out that he had taken an oath to help all those who needed it, and Vaarsuvius certainly needed it. The other said that, if he wanted to help Vaarsuvius, he should wait until he was approached. Vaarsuvius would just withdraw in any other scenario.

The dark thought that Durkon had hidden after his first talk with Vaarsuvius when he came back from the castle rose to the forefront, making both the healer and the dwarf recoil. He had told Elan and Belkar—he assumed that Haley and Roy would be thinking a similar route as him and wouldn't need to be warned—explicitly to not ask any questions about the things Xykon did and said during the battle when the elf and paladin escaped. The reason he gave was that Vaarsuvius would be embarrassed and Xykon was probably making stuff up on the spot anyway. Elan believed him easily, but he could tell that Belkar had been getting a grasp of his real suspicions.

The Halfling had only darkened and tensed up, shaking his head and muttering 'You don't think…' before leaving a clueless Elan behind. With the way Vaarsuvius withdrew after his escape and refused to talk about being captive outside of any possible information he had gotten while there, Durkon could tell that Roy and Belkar were getting increasingly suspicious and angry. Haley didn't quite come to the conclusion that they did, but she knew that something had happened and he could tell how restless she was getting about it. Elan was the most naïve, but even he had the sense that something was wrong and that it had started in that damned castle.

One thing was for sure—when the Order encountered that wretched goblin leader again, he would regret everything and anything that he may have done to their elf.

As if the gods conspired to strengthen Durkon's resolve, the elf twisted again in his sleep, letting out one of the most plaintive whimpers he had ever heard, and the scant light reflected off of his sweaty skin, throwing the nearly invisible scars all along his cheeks in sharp relief.

Durkon backed up and slowly went back to his tent, a metallic ball of hatred and fury hardening in his stomach. He would wait for Vaarsuvius to come to him, but rest assured, he would concentrate every bit of Thor's might he could muster into making sure that the one who did this to their elf was punished.


	3. Chapter 3

Vaarsuvius barely picked at his breakfast, Durkon noted. Dark circles were under his eyes as though he had been viciously punched in both of them. Gray veins were slightly more visible under his skin. His fingers trembled faintly but noticeably. He seemed to have shrunk in on himself, as if he had been polymorphed into a praying mantis or some other scrawny bug.

The marks of not trancing.

Durkon kept his concerns to himself, but everyone, Elan especially, looked from V to the cleric expectantly at least once, telling Durkon with their eyes that they wanted him to fix their elf. He gave them all the same response. A slight dip of his head. He had sat by and only offered words to Vaarsuvius once—he wouldn't do it again.

But now wasn't the time to try to coax Vaarsuvius out of his protective shell.

"Shojo told us that Girard's Gate is protected by illusions. V, Durkon, do you have anything that you think can counter that?"

Durkon nodded. "Aye. Took a while t' find anythin', though."

"I have a few spells I prepared today for such things. It will help us find the gate and dispel some of the initial illusions, but I doubt that such a cunning man would have left _only_ illusions to protect the gate. Clever illusionists tend to mix reality with dreams." Vaarsuvius put down the untouched food on the blanket they were eating on, the raven on his shoulder jumping down and pecking at what was left.

"So, in short, keep your guard up and your senses sharp," Roy said quietly, frowning at the full plate but not commenting.

Belkar didn't seem so inclined. "Hey, Ears, if you're going to go anorexic on us, Mr. Scruffy calls dibs on the scraps."

Vaarsuvius shrugged and made a small dismissive gesture. The cat padded up across from Blackwing and started eating. The bird didn't seem to mind. Neither animal needed too much to eat.

"Shall I start the spell to find the gate?"

"Go ahead, V. We'll pack up camp."

Durkon watched Vaarsuvius pull out a scroll and lace gray fingers together, readying himself to perform the spell. Durkon noted that the elf seemed a little more… feminine today. Maybe it was the light or something. Durkon couldn't really tell if he or she was a man or woman or something in between, even on a good day. He turned away and started taking down the tents.

---

"Shouldn't we be trying to check this place for traps before we go in?"

Tsukiko groaned in discomfort, squirming and disrupting the visibility through the illusion.

"Tsukiko, stop moving around and just help me keep the illusion off."

Redcloak scowled at the Theurge, the magic running through his veins straining and starting to heat up at the exertion that was being put into the temporary abatement of the illusion. Trying to keep his feet from sinking too far in the sand didn't help his concentration. Xykon took his sweet time, strolling to the sandstone door in the ground, kicking it a little to see how solid it was…

"Xykon!"

"You both are wimps." Xykon smirked and opened up the door into the dungeon. The monster's glowing gold eyes pinched slightly in a big smile and he lumbered inside.

"Oh goody! It was getting hot out here."

The wind picked up suddenly, a cloud of sand forming, and grains started whipping their faces. Visibility was disrupted. The desert itself had sensed the intruders, roaring and trying to swallow them up before any secrets could be revealed.

Xykon waved his hand in front of his face. "Sand's hell trying to get out of my joints. And eyes. And… well, everything that can get sand in it." He quickly walked into the dungeon, leaving behind two swearing minions.

"Dammit! Sandstorm's here."

Tsukiko let out a swear and a shouted 'it's in my eyes!' before Redcloak dropped his hands, grabbing the necromancer's arm roughly and jumping into the dungeon just before the illusion settled back. Xykon shoved the door closed behind them, letting the sandstorm rage.

"I don't know if that was enchantment or coincidence," Redcloak muttered, letting Tsukiko go and brushing sand off of himself. His very blood ached from the divine magic he had focused through it, and he could tell by Tsukiko's stifled whimpers that she felt the same way. They both just wanted to curl up and sleep for the next two decades, but Redcloak was well-aware that they wouldn't be allowed two minutes.

The passage they had come into was pitch black, the scent of sulfur coming off of the walls, as though they had been saturated with it. Redcloak coughed, breathing in a little too much dust for his liking.

The tunnel promptly lit up.

It wasn't the cheerful light of electricity or the atmospheric light of torches. The walls, ceiling, and floor themselves lit up, completely phosphorescent and casting a green glow on everything, giving Tsukiko the look of deathly illness and Xykon the look of being overgrown by moss. The monster started shifting nervously, but thankfully not so much that he brought the entire dungeon down on their heads. "Redcloak, what's this?"

"Girard was an illusionist. Illusionists don't work with force—they work with the mind." Redcloak glanced back at the group. "The enchantments are probably designed to play on our fears and desires. It's predictable. We'll be separated at some point, we'll be shown dead family members, we'll have monsters under the bed coming out randomly and trying to chase us out, we'll get little pixies promising ultimate power popping up… Just ignore what any of them do. As long as you can't touch them, they're not there."

"Yeah, yeah, we all know how illusions work, Reddy." Xykon started walking, leading his three subordinates through the twisting tunnel, going deeper and deeper in the radioactive green depths. "Hey, who wants to bet on how long it'll take until we get to a split in the tunnel with exactly four routes?"

"My money's on twenty minutes," the Theurge piped up.

"I'd say even less. Fifteen gold pieces to who wins."

"You're on."

The competition seemed to make Tsukiko get a little more color and life in her face.

Xykon won the bet.

---

When the sandstorm started, the entire Order hunkered down, doing their best to shield each other with their bodies and what little of the tents they could put up without fear of losing them. Belkar kept Mr. Scruffy securely in his arms and Blackwing clung to Vaarsuvius's shoulder the whole time. Roy kept within arm's length of Vaarsuvius and Belkar, a little nervous that either of them could be overwhelmed by the storm or blown away because of their light weights. Neither showed signs of yielding. Vaarsuvius concentrated what magic could help into the storm, trying to protect everyone from the tiny yet deadly projectiles being thrown around in the wind at ridiculous speeds. It mostly worked.

The Order all scuttled into the safety of the elf's magical barriers, quickly putting up the most sturdy tent they could and going into it. Vaarsuvius started swaying, head spinning, before the elf staggered and zipped into the tent.

"By Thor!" Durkon forced the flimsy 'door' shut after Vaarsuvius came in, doing his best to keep the sand out. "Tha' started too quickly t' be natural."

"I believe that we are getting close to the gate."

Vaarsuvius let the purple ponytail out, shaking out the sand. Durkon frowned a little as the hair fell against the elf's chest. Vaarsuvius was definitely looking a little more feminine.

Belkar ran his hands through the mewing Mr. Scruffy's fur, getting as much sand out as possible. "The Scruffster wasn't meant to be in the desert."

"With any luck, we'll be out soon." Roy leaned back, doing another quick headcount in his head. He had no desire to repeat the 'Losing Durkon' incident in Dorukan's Gate. "We're getting closer to the gate, if Shojo's directions are anything to go by."

"Are we sure he wasn't just pulling our legs again?" Haley half-joked, helping Elan get sand out of his hair.

"He was a manipulative old man, but I can't see a reason he'd trick us about that." Roy quietly thanked the gods that he had decided to shave his head in college. It would have been hell to get sand out of his hair. "Let's try to sleep through this. Night was coming along anyway and it doesn't look like this will let up."

"I will stay awake as a lookout," Vaarsuvius immediately volunteered, provoking a surprised caw from Blackwing and strange looks from everyone in the tent. Belkar shrugged, but Roy leaned forward in concern.

"V, you—"

"Fine, then. Ye ought t' get somethin' in ye, first."

Roy looked at Durkon in confusion, but everyone, after brief hesitation, decided to trust his judgment. The dwarf pulled out what little rations they had for everyone, passing them out.

Vaarsuvius understood the unspoken tension about the elf's health, and to put the adventurers' minds mostly at rest, the mage tried to eat a little more this time. The mage abandoned the meal after eating half, allowing the animals among the group to finish it off. Few others left so much as a scrap after the strenuous day.

The elf loosely wrapped thin arms around a tiny body, eyes slightly glazed, and after a moment Roy scooted a little closer.

"V, is there something wrong?"

The elf didn't respond, eyes fixed on the ground.

"V?" Roy frowned, reaching out to touch the elf's shoulder.

"A dinnae suggest doin' tha', lad." Durkon put his clean plate next to the elf's. "'E's out cold. Th' elven equivalent, anyway." He flashed a small pouch filled with what looked like pills, smirking, before he put it in his pocket.

There was silence. Then Belkar burst out in laughter.

"You _drugged V?!_"

"Na' if 'e asks." Durkon smirked privately, taking off his heavy armor, leaving just simple leather garments on. "If'n 'e asks, 'e jus' sudd'nly started trancin' so hard tha' 'e didn' 'ave any dreams on 'is own an' we decided t' let 'im keep doin' that. I'll handle th' first watch shift."

After another bout of laughter, Belkar's short attention span came into play and he designated a drugged but trancing Vaarsuvius too boring to pay attention to anymore, so he and Elan started watching Mr. Scruffy bat some string.

Vaarsuvius's raven swooped to the elf's lap, looking up at the dull trancing face, shifting his weight from foot to foot and fluffing up his feathers. "Hey, any chance you have more of whatever you used? I'm thinking that it'd be a good idea for me to keep some for V."

Haley frowned at the bird, taking out one of her arrows and checking it for damage from the sandstorm. "You can talk?"

"Of course I can." The raven stretched out his neck, glaring a little. "Not like any of you would know."

"You don't get enough attention?" Haley smiled, grabbing some scraps from her plate and holding them out to the bird. "Will this make up for it?"

"Maybe." The raven hopped to the rogue's hand, pecking at the food. "So anyway, whatever you used on V…?"

Roy shifted, emptying his sheath of sand, frowning at the bird. Durkon arched his eyebrow, leaning back and taking the opportunity presented to him. "I gotta few questions first, lad."

"If they have to do with V, then I'm not answering them." The raven continued pecking the rogue's hand. "I have some loyalty, you know."

"Think o' it as loyalty t' the point where ye won't let 'im destroy 'imself."

Blackwing looked up, cocking his head, expression unreadable. "Are you going to give me what you gave V or not?"

Durkon frowned, recognizing defeat when he saw it, and pulled out the tiny pouch of small white capsules filled with powder. "They're strong. Jus' one an' ye can't think straight fer at least eight hours. They're usually meant t' help out people in mournin' or wit' nightmares. I figured whate'er was botherin' V at night 'ad t' do with memories durin' trance. It wasn't like 'e was obsessin' o'er spells again."

Blackwing stuck out his foot, letting the dwarf tie the small bag to his leg. It was so small that it was hidden when he fluffed up his feathers. "Thanks. I think that I'm going to sleep now."

The bird stared at the adventurers suspiciously and hopped into Vaarsuvius's lap, leaning against the elf's abdomen and falling to sleep.

---

_"This next spell is going to stain clothes."_

_Vaarsuvius looked up at Aarindarius curiously, violet eyes wide and hands resting lightly on the table. The child's abdomen was hurting, but that could have been hunger. The wizard looked down at the apprentice, smiling, and lightly patted the purple hair before opening one of the many drawers in the study, pulling out a color-splattered robe and gray undergarments. "It isn't a very useful spell in the long run, but it is excellent for learning the principles of the manipulation of things outside of yourself. Quite popular among little children, if you ever find yourself trying to entertain them. Change into these before we start."_

_The child nodded, smiling, and took the clothes before scampering down out of the room and into a bathroom, glad that Aarindarius wouldn't help get the clothes off and on as Parent and Other Parent were wont to do. _

_The child's growing breasts felt a little sore, but that could be ignored. They'd felt that way for a while. It was a little harder to ignore the pained abdomen, but Vaarsuvius was sure that it was just because of hunger. _

_It was a little harder to explain away when Vaarsuvius slipped off her underwear to see blood, and a trail of crimson started down the inside of a pale leg._

_More blood started dripping down, leaving a trail of sticky warmth and staining white skin until it hit the dark wooden floor. _

_Vaarsuvius shrieked, haphazardly putting on the red robe again, and ran out of the bathroom. "Aarindarius!" _

_The teacher was at the doorway already, alarmed by the scream and coming to see if Vaarsuvius was alright, and caught the hysterical child in his thin arms, holding the apprentice close. "Vaarsuvius! Vaarsuvius, what is wrong?!"_

_"I'm dying! Aarindarius, I'm dying!" _

_Aarindarius blinked in surprise, keeping his grip around the young apprentice tight. "Dying? Why do you think that you are dying?" _

_Vaarsuvius shook and tears streamed out of big violet eyes as the child opened the robe up just enough to show the trails of blood down the insides of her legs. "Is there enough time to go to Parent and Other Parent and tell them that I love them?" _

_Aarindarius's eyebrows went up and his face flushed a little, gentle hands rubbing the child's back. "Oh, Suvie…" The wizard knelt down so their eyes were level, hands clutching tiny hands. "Has this ever happened to you before?" _

_The little apprentice shook her head quickly, sniffing and blinking against the tears staining pale cheeks. _

_"Suvie, you're not dying." Aarindarius smiled, raising a hand and gently wiping the child's face free of tears. "Your body is just telling you that you are a young woman. It is something that happens to girls around your age—you bleed from between your legs. It's a little alarming if you don't expect it, but it's just a sign that your body is working properly." _

_Vaarsuvius sniffed, shakes starting to recede. "Really? So I'm not dying?"_

_"No, little one." Aarindarius did something that he rarely did. He kissed the child's forehead tenderly. "I will explain it to you once you are cleaned up. You may use my bath and I will bring you something that other women use to handle the bleeding." _

_Vaarsuvius nodded, swallowing, feeling suddenly ashamed by the outburst. "Thank you." _

_"Do not feel embarrassed. Your parents should have informed you of this before. I'll tell you everything I know about it."_

_The child nodded, then slowly smiled. "Thank you, Aarindarius." _


	4. Chapter 4

"Redcloak?"

Redcloak threw his hands up, cursing all clichéd illusory traps in his head and rolling his eye towards the ceiling. "If you are another cheap illusion of a family member or Vaarsuvius, I swear…"

"I'm not an illusion."

The goblin looked around, gold eye narrowing. "Not again."

Vaarsuvius looked offended. The elf was just as Redcloak remembered. Wild purple hair. Fiery violet eyes. Pale skin. Pointed ears. The scent of flowers and wine was so intoxicating that, had Redcloak not known that this was another trick, he would have gladly thrown away all of the barriers he had put around his thoughts of Vaarsuvius just to feel the elf's lips again, just to touch the body he knew he was only one of the few who was found worthy to touch… but he was no fool.

"You're not tricking me. I caught on after the first five or so times this place pulled the 'brother/niece/lover' card."

"Reddy, I'm not an illusion." Vaarsuvius smiled, reaching forward and resting a decidedly tangible hand on the goblin's cheek. "You see? I'm real."

Redcloak arched an eyebrow in surprise, wondering what sort of creature this was. The elf went on tip-toes and kissed the goblin softly, lips melding carefully to accommodate the other species. The warm body pressed against his. Gentle fingers trailed down his sides…

"Maybe not an illusion, but not Vaarsuvius."

Redcloak roughly shoved the copy away, only eye a mere fleck of gold, wiping his mouth free of the sour taste of the imposter's kiss. "One, Vaarsuvius never calls me 'Reddy.' That elf's hard-pressed to tell me so much as her name. Vaarsuvius isn't the type to give pet names to people that are going to try to destroy everything for the sake of one species." He brushed himself off, a little sickened by being touched by the creature in front of him. "Second, Vaarsuvius wouldn't be so willing to jump right back into whatever we were. When I see that elf next, I'm going to be like any other enemy." He backed up a step, glaring. "Third, you can imitate appearance and smell well, I'll grant you, but you can't imitate touch and taste."

The thing that looked like Vaarsuvius was silent for a long moment, absorbing what was being said, before rolling its eyes to the sky, skin reddening and hair darkening to black. "Jeeze. You're no fun."

The succubus shook her hair out, eyes turning red and moist wings wiggling out of the restrictive robes they were forced in, flapping wetly to lose the liquid that Redcloak was positive he didn't want to know the origin of. "I mean, usually I'm able to get some poor sap who's so desperate that they're willing to believe, but no. I had to get some frigid bastard who won't even put out a little for fun's sake."

"So sorry to disappoint."

She started to morph again, back into Vaarsuvius, but this time, Vaarsuvius looked beaten and bloody. Redcloak reminded himself quickly of what was really in front of him before he came forward to heal his partner.

"Anyway, I have other fish to fry." The succubus who looked like Vaarsuvius ripped her tatty red robes, exposing more flesh than Redcloak was comfortable seeing on his partner. He had seen and felt Vaarsuvius naked, but it was something personal that he knew the elf allowed only to a few. To see this woman freely flaunt things that had every appearance as belonging to the elf made him angry on his partner's behalf.

The succubus spun around, her arms outstretched. "Like it?" She smirked. "You sure you don't want a quickie before I pop off to terrorize other people? From what I've gathered, this one wasn't too good about putting out a lot. How can a big guy like you be satisfied with a frigid wench like her?"

Redcloak sneered in disgust, making a dismissive motion with his hand. "Get out of my sight. There's more to relationships than sex."

"Oh come on. I'll imitate your elf, if you like. You're a lonely sap without her, I can tell. Don't you miss her?" The succubus who looked like Vaarsuvius ran a hand sensuously through her royal purple hair, smiling. "You can always pretend."

Redcloak scowled darkly, making another dismissive gesture with more force. "I don't want a cheap copy, fiend."

"Really? Huh." The succubus disappeared in a puff of smoke.

---

The Order unanimously decided that the gates were almost more trouble to get to than they were worth.

"V, Durkon, are you guys sure—"

"We are fine, I assure you." Vaarsuvius refused to accept Elan's or Haley's silent offers to help walk, severely weakened from trying to hold the illusions at bay while the Order opened the door to the dungeon and head spinning for reasons that would never be divulged to the Order. "Focus on the path ahead."

Durkon shrugged off Elan and Haley's offers as well, but more politely than the elf, and fixed his eyes on the phosphorescent walls. "I sense th' presence o' a dark god. An evil cleric was through 'ere recently."

Vaarsuvius looked up with an odd look in violet eyes, but no one noticed. Roy took out his sword, swinging it experimentally, muscles tensing noticeably under his skin. "Do you think it's Xykon and his goblin?" The name and the last word were coated in more venom than usual. Vaarsuvius casually wrote it off as Roy's usual dislike for the lich and his associates. Only the other Order members knew why the swordsman was feeling particularly heated about their foes.

"I can't think o' any other reas'n tha' there'd be an evil cleric runnin' around."

The elf subconsciously rested a hand on a small abdomen, avoiding the gazes of the rest of the Order without realizing it. "R—the goblin who serves Xykon is a cleric of a high enough level that he would have a significant effect to the divine energies." Vaarsuvius seemed to notice the instinctive gesture, scowling, and brushed the red robe off, removing the hand from the hurting stomach quickly. "It would make sense for them to be here."

The rest of the Order exchanged looks, misconstruing the elf's lack of eye contact and reinforcing their suspicions.

"Well, we ought to find them. We owe them for killing our leader and taking our spell caster, don't we?" Haley said, taking Elan's hand and smiling, an unspoken message rippling out to everyone but Vaarsuvius.

"I do not suggest it," the elf said, mind obviously elsewhere. Maybe it was because of the uncharacteristic inattentiveness that the mage didn't notice what the pointed discouragement was further convincing the Order of. "If Redcloak is with Xykon, we are against a high-level cleric and an epic-level sorcerer. Even without one of his eyes, Redcloak is powerful and intelligent enough so that he would be very difficult to defeat, even when we are working together. Xykon is powerful enough to kill us all on his own. They are also likely with the mid-level Theurge and a creature of indeterminate species and strength. We should avoid fighting them at all costs."

"And Rule of Drama says that the party has to split up! We're probably going to get to a giant fo…" Elan trailed off as the entire group stopped, faced with six different paths leading off in wildly different directions, the phosphorescent walls flickering only slightly. "Here it is."

Everyone stared for a moment, roughly identical thoughts running through their heads. "Can all of us go down one path?"

"We don't know which way the gate is. It'll take too long for us all to explore each path."

There was another reluctant silence.

"Well, I'll divide up th' rations an' supplies." Durkon started rifling through the packs. "Vaarsuvius, ye wouldna happ'n t' 'ave a spell so we c'n track each other…?"

"I am afraid not, Mr. Thundershield."

"Figures." Roy sighed, exasperated that the gods of drama continued to make life a thousand times harder for him. "Alright. We don't know how this works. I don't like the idea of us splitting up, but we're going to have to. Elan, in a story, what would happen along the paths?"

Elan smiled, leaning on his heels. "That's easy. We'll all face what we fear and what we want, and after a big journey where we all think that we won't survive, we come back together at the gate and have an epic battle with the villain, each one of us changed for the better, and we slay the dragon and get the damsel in distress."

"That sounds like more trouble than it's worth. Can't be just blow through the tunnels and get a whore back outside or something?" Belkar took out a dagger, throwing it hand to hand restlessly.

"It doesn't work that way," Roy said, frowning at the tunnels. "You ready, Durkon?"

"I'm done, lad."

Durkon handed out packs to everyone, looking thoroughly disgruntled. "It's against ev'rythin' I was taught as a healer, but I'm goin' t' 'ave t' leave ye all with jus' a coupla bandages an' painkillers fer when I'm na around."

"Yeah, yeah, cluck all you want. We're all grown up now." Belkar checked the contents of the bag and, satisfied, slung it over his shoulder. "Let's get this over with."

Most people just nodded their goodbyes, or actually said them if they were so moved. Elan and Haley kissed each other, the blond saying something about some drama cliché guaranteeing that they would be back together soon. Both Roy and Durkon looked at Vaarsuvius before exchanging glances, both a little reluctant to leave the elf alone but neither having a choice in the matter.

"Farewell. We shall see each other again soon."

With the soft goodbye from Vaarsuvius, the group split apart, each going a different direction.

Deep in the heart of the dungeon, an imprint reached out, smirking, and started to pull the strings.

---

Vaarsuvius and Blackwing traveled in companionable silence, the quiet only disturbed by the occasional rustle of cloth when the elf touched a pregnant abdomen after a particularly vicious cramp. Anyone else would have suggested that the mage take advantage of the painkillers that the healer had provided. Blackwing knew his master well enough to realize that it wouldn't matter.

The raven also knew better than to comment when Vaarsuvius had to stop numerous times to nurse the pain or make the dizziness go away. The only acknowledgement he gave was a gentle nip on the elf's ear, a light reminder that Vaarsuvius wasn't alone.

The elf was grateful for it. When the female cleric said that the pregnancy would be difficult, the mage hadn't been quite prepared for it. Vaarsuvius could deal with cramps, sore breasts, and headaches. Pain was a matter of the body, not the mind. But the dizziness and the light-headedness were just nuisances. The elf was well-aware of what little it would require to faint, and Vaarsuvius was not at all happy with it. And then there were the hormones to deal with. How the mage would hide it from everyone, especially when the time came to battle, Vaarsuvius had no idea. But hidden it would remain.

Vaarsuvius was shocked out of these thoughts when a pale hand, previously lightly running against the cold green wall, hit something sticky and wet.

The mage stiffened, a cold flare running down a tiny body, and slowly brought the affected hand up to look at.

It was covered with blood.

Vaarsuvius swallowed, trying to calm the nerves going haywire in a hormonal brain, and watched the crimson drip to the floor slowly. It wasn't real. It was an illusion.

It felt real.

The mage slowly looked at the wall, rubbing sticky and warm fingers together, eyes widening at the trails of scarlet running down from the ceiling. It was a bad idea to look up. It was a _really _bad idea to look up.

So, of course, Vaarsuvius looked up.

And regretted it dearly.

There was a natural shelf of rock at the ceiling. Four people were sitting up on it, glaring down at the elf, blood trailing from them and dripping down the walls, creating a fine red mist, the phosphorescence of the tunnel dimmed until it felt like the elf was in hell. Hell was red darkness.

One of the gargoyles held his head tight in his hands, an angry fountain from his stump of a neck staining a blue uniform red, eyes narrowed in accusation, lips silently moving in what could have either been pleas or curses.

"Worthless _coward_," the woman spat, snapping sharpened teeth, before she started coughing, more blood welling up, making the coppery smell choking, and the smell of sulfur was growing and oh elven gods the head's lips were still moving what were they doing here the blood was everywhere OH ELVEN GODS THE BLOOD

"CHOKE ON YOUR USELESS GODDAMN MAGIC!"

Vaarsuvius turned to run, but slipped on the red pool on the ground, falling hard in the warmth. The elf stumbled, trying to stand up, but the female gargoyle's mouth opened up, a snake-like tongue snapping out and wrapping up tiny ankles.

"I'll kill your children!"

"I'll kill your mate!"

"I'll kill your comrades!"

"AND YOU WON'T CARE!"

oh great elven gods what was happening the lips on the head are still moving and oh great elven gods the blood was coming faster and its eyes were changing colors all yellow and orange and purple and THE BLOOD WAS COMING FASTER MAKE IT STOP

"You did this to yourself, Other Parent."

Vaarsuvius looked down to see one of the beloved children tear through a vulnerable arm, the blood up to the little one's waist, sharpened teeth stained red sunk deep into the mage's flesh, pure yellow eyes dancing wildly and broken legs cracking under weight that they shouldn't have to hold.

"Always remember that."

Vaarsuvius shrieked in pain, fire shooting through the elf's very being, and the other beloved child, orange-eyed, ripped sharp teeth through the mage's other arm. The blood was rising and the children would drown in it oh great elven gods what was happening the children they should never have been involved why was this happening it hurt it hurt so much oh elven gods Vaarsuvius was going insane the elf could feel its mind unraveling THE ELF WAS GOING INSANE

"You're only forced to see what you did to us."

Inkyrius cocked a starkly pale head, purple eyes staring in a frozen grin, face looking like a bad mask, wrists and feet draining blood from where stakes were driven through them, green hair scarlet. "You see what you have done to us, Suvie?"

Inkyrius raised thin arms and turned into a black dragon stained red, roaring and coming down to swallow Vaarsuvius whole.

---

Redcloak looked up sharply at the sound of screaming. "Tsukiko?"

He entertained the idea of letting the crazy Theurge bask in a different kind of madness for a moment, but the scream changed pitch, sounding increasingly desperate, and his moral compass was tripped.

The goblin ran towards the sound, wondering what could possibly have made Tsukiko sound like that, but he stopped short when he came to the passage where the screams were coming from.

"Vaarsuvius? Vaarsuvius, what's wrong?!"

The raven vainly scratched at the elf's face and arms, pecking for good measure, but Vaarsuvius was sitting on the ground, face covered by arms that had obviously been ravaged by ragged nails and were now bleeding profusely, and screams of the likes Redcloak had never heard resonating out.

His immediate instinct was to rush to the elf's side and hold the little body close to his, heal the bleeding arms, and snap his lover out of whatever hellish daze this dungeon had cast. His next thought was that he was supposed to not care about Vaarsuvius anymore so he should take advantage of the situation and kill the enemy spell caster. His third thought was that this was another clever illusion.

He should go. He'd dealt with too many illusions. Redcloak meant to go, but his body wouldn't respond.

He tried to leave again, but his heart wasn't in it.

The screams were too much. It was one thing to reject a horny imposter. It was another to ignore an unconfirmed imposter going insane.

Redcloak ignored the surprised squawk from the raven when he came forward and knelt by the elf, lightly putting his hands on tiny shoulders…

_The tunnel stank of blood and the undead corpses of Azure City soldiers sat at the ceiling, one holding his own severed head, and two little demon children were grinning with a similar demon elf…_

Redcloak jerked his hands back, blinking the macabre vision away, and braced himself against what he instinctively knew was the product of his partner's past, something he knew very little about. The scientist piped up, telling him to either leave the elf to face its own demons or kill it where it sat. It was only logical. The person scolded the scientist for referring to Vaarsuvius as an 'it' and quickly interjected that it would be cruel to leave his lover like this. The scientist loudly proclaimed that this probably wasn't Vaarsuvius in the first place and he was falling into an obvious trap—admittedly, an obvious trap that was much harder not to run into. The person countered with the fact that he could handle almost any level of monster this place tried to throw at him. If this was real, then Vaarsuvius was going to go insane. Was he willing to risk that? Vaarsuvius was too proud and fiery to lose such an integral part!

Redcloak left the two conflicting parts of his personality to squabble and lightly put his hands on the elf's shoulders, forcing the visions of blood, smoke, and sulfur away from him and staying focused on Vaarsuvius. Was he doing the smart thing? No. He wasn't. He should take advantage of this and claw the mage's throat open.

The goblin slapped the elf hard and the vision shattered.


	5. Chapter 5

The blood was gone. The children were gone. The dragon/Inkyrius was gone. The gargoyles were gone. Nothing was left.

Except for a person who Vaarsuvius wasn't sure was real or not.

The tunnel swayed. The only things holding the elf upright were two firm hands on lightly trembling shoulders. Vaarsuvius noticed that there was new pain in a pale cheek and delicate arms, coupled with the feeling of warm liquid dripping down. Redcloak, or at least a shape shifter who was good at imitation, was kneeling on the ground, eye staying trained on the elf's face.

Vaarsuvius wanted to look away, a persistent feeling of shame starting to pull hard within. Whether this was a shape shifter, a hallucination, or Redcloak himself, the elf had been caught in something deeply personal and undignified. No one should ever see the effects of the mage's nightmares and visions. No one should ever hear the screams. No one should ever witness that disgraceful weakness. It was too private.

Redcloak's hands left the elf's shoulders. The goblin's face was expressionless as he gently fingered the cuts in Vaarsuvius's face. "Cure Minor Wounds."

The elf looked down, the slashes on pale arms and face sewing themselves up until all that was left were all but invisible scars.

A shape shifter wouldn't know cleric spells unless it was an actual cleric. A cleric shape shifter in the depths of Girard's dungeon would have no reason to heal Vaarsuvius.

Redcloak looked like he would say something. Vaarsuvius hated conflicting feelings, and they were coming in waves. On one hand, there was pure joy at being with the goblin again, especially without anyone around forcing them to attack each other. On the other, there was fear of being alone with him and what emotions that would bring up. There was the embarrassment of being caught in disgrace. There was relief that it was Redcloak who had done it—he had seen worse. There was warmth in the elf's chest and stomach at being with the cleric again. There was hatred of those feelings, because even if it was only on a subconscious level, the mage knew what they were and what they meant. Along with all that—and a vicious twinge from the elf's abdomen served as a chilling reminder—Vaarsuvius knew that this goblin had unknowingly fathered the child now growing within the mage.

Oh dear elven gods. Vaarsuvius was carrying Redcloak's child. And he didn't know.

Damnation.

This realization—something that Vaarsuvius should have already come to terms with—knocked the very breath from the elf's lungs.

Redcloak stood up wordlessly, oblivious to what was going through Vaarsuvius's head, and turned to leave.

The elf knew that the goblin should go. It was dangerous for them to talk, to even touch, when there was no one else's presence to keep them in check. The feelings between them were too convoluted and ran too deep—dangerous territory.

Blood started dripping down the walls and Vaarsuvius shook, trying to blink away the illusion but failing. "Redcloak…"

The goblin glanced back, frowning, hiding a flash of worry in his eye. Vaarsuvius never sounded so pathetic. Never.

The elf seemed to catch on to the distinctly weak note to the voice and scowled at the floor, clenching small fists and trying to keep violet eyes away from the blood. Red started pooling on the floor, whispers coming from the very walls themselves. "You were a fool to save me."

Redcloak stayed expressionless, watching the elf with a face that would seem clinical and dispassionate to anyone else. If someone other than the mage's loved ones had heard the harsh remark, Vaarsuvius would sound hard and angry. Redcloak knew better than that. He knew too much about the elf's pride and defense mechanisms.

He walked back against both their better judgment, kneeling before his partner and tentatively putting his hands on small shoulders. He wasn't sure if he was permitted to touch Vaarsuvius anymore, but judging by the elf's subtle lean into his hands, he was more than welcome. "I didn't expect to see you again so soon."

The blood melted away and the whispers faded as soon as their skin met. Vaarsuvius resisted the urge to throw delicate arms around the goblin's neck and kiss him until time itself ended. They couldn't fall back into their old pattern. It was too dangerous. "The feeling is mutual."

Pain tore through the elf's abdomen angrily, clawing for attention, giving Vaarsuvius a ruthless reminder that there was something within that demanded what the elf could not give—a body structure capable of handling what was being asked of it and proper rest and sustenance. As revenge, it dealt the elf a brutal token of one thing that could not be explained away, could not be ignored, that would bind the cleric and mage together until it ceased to exist.

Vaarsuvius, to the elf's credit, only winced slightly, stifling a cry and tightening thin lips a little. It was enough for Redcloak's notice, though.

"Are you still hurt?" He frowned, tightening his grip lightly on the elf's shoulder. "Cure Light Wounds."

Pain receded for the moment, but Vaarsuvius knew well enough that it would come back if the elf continued without enough food, trance, and medical attention. People weren't supposed to have this much cramping at the beginning of pregnancy. The backaches and the headache were normal, but the cramping was worrisome.

"…Thank you. You are still a fool."

"Well, at least I know you're not an illusion." The slightest smile played over Redcloak's lips. "Only Vaarsuvius could be healed and then insult the one who did it."

"And only Redcloak could be insulted for his mistakes and then repeat them mere moments later."

Redcloak's hand twitched, an incomplete motion towards the elf's face. "Vaarsuvius, I…" He stopped himself. "Never mind. You look like you haven't tranced in a while."

Vaarsuvius shrugged vaguely. "I tranced last night." In fact, the elf was a little suspicious of the circumstances of that, but considering that there had been no nightmares, Vaarsuvius was willing to overlook the possibility of deceit on the Order's part.

"One night doesn't do much versus several nights prior." Redcloak frowned at the phosphorescent walls around them. "It was nighttime when I got in here."

"It was the afternoon when I did, and I am rather certain you came first."

Redcloak nodded thoughtfully. "Then, if my sense of time is worth anything here, it's night again. We should probably stay together for now—Dark One knows how this place will mess with our dreams."

Vaarsuvius recognized the favor Redcloak was doing. He was offering a good night's rest just as he did in the Azure City castle, and in the process, he was sparing the elf hurt pride by only mentioning how they would equally benefit from it.

The elf's only response to this imprudent generosity was blinked thanks. "Either of us could easily kill the other in their sleep."

"True." Redcloak leaned on the wall comfortably, cocking his head. "But neither of us will." _The same way neither of us did last time._

Vaarsuvius hesitated, then slowly nodded, strands of purple hair falling out of the ponytail. "Very well."

On unspoken agreement, they both sidled up together, intertwining until both had their arms around the other, one providing heat and the other providing comfort. Redcloak noted worriedly that the elf was still shaking from the vision. Vaarsuvius noted gratefully that the goblin still hadn't asked about it. By the same unspoken agreement, their hands stayed in completely respectful and pure areas. They were willing to extend some form of the emotional and physical intimacy they had shared in Azure City, but they knew better than to engage in anything more than the limited amount they had already permitted. They knew better than to engage in any at all, but both were feeling too weak to resist for different reasons.

Vaarsuvius's shaking tapered off and violet eyes glazed over in a trance. There weren't any nightmares for either of them.

---

Durkon didn't understand the mechanics of magic and illusion too well. He had only been interested in his god as a child, a teenager, and as an adult. He had never intended to become a mage, so he didn't see why he should try to learn anything about magic. But he knew what an illusion was and he knew that he was seeing one.

That fact didn't make his blood freeze any less.

"Get off of me! How dare you?!"

The sound of Vaarsuvius's voice was piercingly clear, even though it was impossible that the elf was there. Durkon's grip on his hammer tightened and he leaned against the wall, trying to calm himself down, and his eyes were fixed on the opposite wall just in front of a bend in the tunnel, shadows as clear as if they belongs to people just out of sight in the tunnel moving against the surface. One shadow was of a familiar, straight, impossibly slender body clothed in robes. The other was of some greater monster warped by Durkon's own perceptions, only identifiable from the wicked claws on its long fingers, currently wrapped around the more slender shadow's arms.

The owner of the slender shadow twisted and continued to shout, trying to rip out of the monster's grasp. "Unhand me immediately!"

The monster said something in guttural goblin tongue, the shadows being forced closer and closer together. There was the sound of ripping clothes. "Get off of me. Get _off_ of me. _GET OFF OF ME!_"

Durkon steeled himself. The shadows were of nothing. The sounds were just illusions. When he walked around the bend, it would be over. Vaarsuvius wasn't being hurt again. Vaarsuvius wasn't being hurt again. Vaarsuvius would never be hurt again as long as the Order existed.

The demands morphed into horrible screams and the shadows meshed together. Durkon couldn't go forward. If the dungeon had the power to make shadows and sounds, it had the power to make images of people. He wouldn't be able to handle an outright sight.

He went on his knees and prayed to Thor for strength, shaking, trying to block out the sounds. He wouldn't be able to even walk to this illusion, let alone face it. He knew it wasn't real. He knew that Vaarsuvius wasn't being hurt. It was still too much. This hellish dungeon preyed on the fears of the adventurers who traveled within it. None of its visions were real. He just needed to remember that.

Durkon didn't know how long it took for the screams to recede, turning into soft whimpers, and for the shadows fade from the walls. The nightmare was over. The cleric could continue on his way, hopefully without anymore visions having to do with his worries about Vaarsuvius. He didn't know if he could handle going through it again.

He ignored the slight tremor his hands had developed and stood, taking pains to not notice the residual whimpers that were probably just echoes from the finished illusion. He was slow in walking around the bend.

He quickly realized that he should have been slower.

Vaarsuvius shook violently, sprawled prone on the ground, knees pulled up a little so they protected the abdominal area, purple hair loose and wild, robes ripped up and stained with blood. Even if Durkon hadn't heard it, he would have known what had just happened.

The elf let out a pathetically feeble whimper, shaking and propping up on trembling arms. Scratches ripped down them, blood squeezing out, and veins popped out of the flesh in an unhealthy way. Vaarsuvius glanced up, eyes widening at the sight of the dwarf. "Durkon?" The mage started shaking harder. "How long have you been there?"

Durkon couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. "Vaarsuvius?"

"You _sat back_ and _let_ him do those things?!" The violet eyes, already somewhat off from what Durkon was used to, drained to black and the surprisingly feminine voice became double-toned and guttural. "You call yourself a healer?! You call yourself my _friend?!_ You allow me to spiral to my own doom through self-starvation and exhaustion, get captured by that monster, allow me to begin self-destructing again, and then you simply _sit back and let the monster hurt me again?!_"

Durkon knew that it was an illusion.

He also knew that it was telling the truth.

Seeing the affirmation in the dwarf's eyes, the creature that looked like Vaarsuvius roared, face turning black with a giant mouth lined with sharp teeth, and its head snapped forward, giant mouth opening to swallow the dwarf whole.

Then it was gone. Just like that. And there was nothing in the tunnel to imply that there had been anything there at all.

Durkon didn't start moving forward again until after a long while.

---

_"I know that you and I do not see eye-to-eye in most matters, especially concerning Vaarsuvius, but I think that she is your child and should be treated as such. It is your privilege to raise her. This is different. Why did you not _tell_ her about this beforehand?"_

_Vaarsuvius knew that everyone expected the child to be up in bed and asleep, but the apprentice couldn't leave. The child huddled near the entrance of the living room, ears twitching as she eavesdropped. _

_"'Darius, I think you're overreacting. She's finding things out the natural way."_

_"We are past the dark ages! She thought she was dying. She was crying, Aula! In all my years of teaching her, I have never once seen her cry. She was that terrified." _

_Vaarsuvius blushed and curled into a ball of shame. _

_"I will never doubt that you love her, but you are doing damage by this refusal to tell her about these things." _

_"Oh, she has been handling the changes in her body fine. That's how it's supposed to be."_

_"Well, you explained about the different ways she would develop."_

_"No, we didn't."_

_"What?!"_

_The firelight flickered, almost going out before flaring then settling. A sign that Aarindarius was extremely upset, so much that his magic was affecting the world around him without his urging. _

_Vaarsuvius started angling so the people within the living room could be seen._

_Parent and Other Parent were sitting on the couch nonchalantly, Other Parent lying down with his head in Parent's lap. Aarindarius was pacing in front of the fire, biting his knuckle with his eyes closed. Vaarsuvius had only seen him do that once before when he had found out that a friend of his had become evil because of his lust for power. It was what Aarindarius did to calm down. _

_"No wonder she has been so angry. You have left her nothing but confusion to work with." Aarindarius spun around to face them, more agitated than Vaarsuvius had ever seen him. "You are willing to copulate in front of her and yet you won't even warn her that she will begin menstruating?!"_

_"Well, making love is perfectly natural." Other Parent smiled up at the wizard, an expression completely at odds with Aarindarius's. "She'll find that out too." _

_"**You haven't even explained that?!**"_

_Aarindarius bit his knuckle and closed his eyes again, face turning an odd shade of red. "She is at the age where children get curious. You need to inform her about the feelings she will get and the things that she will want to do before she makes a horrible mistake."_

_"She doesn't need to know. She'll instinctively know when the time's right."_

_"She will be taken _advantage_ of, Tiberius!" Aarindarius tore his knuckle from his teeth, barely noticing as he scratched up the skin and throwing his hands in the air. "Did you learn _nothing_ from the story of the cleric's daughter in Corellon Larethian's temple? She was used by the budding sociopaths among our teenage children because of her lack of knowledge! Vaarsuvius will start going into the town more, if not because she wants to but because she has to at this age. She is becoming beautiful. She will be noticed by the other teenagers. She won't know what they are doing to her!"_

_The fire flared dangerously again before Aarindarius caught himself. Vaarsuvius shook, curling tighter in a protective ball. The child had never seen the wizard this upset. Was she in danger? What were they talking about? _

_"I know you love her. I love her as well. I do not want her to be hurt, especially in such a vile manner." _

_"And she won't be." Parent shifted, frowning at Aarindarius. "'Darius, you're getting worked up over nothing. The young elves here are good people. Suvie will attract them like honey, but they won't hurt her."_

_"You are as naïve as you are loving, Aula. Individuals can be trusted, but you do not know all the teenagers of Ivyleaf. There are always depraved among the pure." Aarindarius crossed his arms. "I love Vaarsuvius. It pains me to see her afraid and upset. She has been in a perpetual state of that since her puberty began."_

_"Now, 'Darius, I think you're exaggerating…"_

_"I am not. She needs something to hold on to. She needs to know what her body is doing to her before she decides that it is something to hate. Don't you see what you are doing to her?"_

_"'Darius, if you want to teach her about love and the body, we won't stop you. We just don't feel that it needs to be said." _

_"My friends, you are fools. If you won't teach her, then I shall. I cannot stand to see her so afraid, and I _will not_ stand to see her exploited because of her ignorance. As long as I live, she will have no reason to cry to me again." _

_The fire flickered again, the smell of thyme and rosewood, magic, strong in the air. _

_Vaarsuvius stood and quietly padded to bed. _


	6. Chapter 6

Haley kept her ears covered and her eyes forward.

"Sweetie, why are you ignoring me?"

"Help!"

"I'm trapped!"

The walls were made of cages. In each one, her emaciated father leaned on the bars, pounding his fists against the steel, his red hair hanging in greasy strings around his white face. "Haley, sweetie, blood's thicker than water. How can you betray me?"

Haley hummed desperately, keeping her hands over her ears, running a constant stream of lyrics through her head to block out the illusions.

"_As I was a-walking for my recreation,  
A down by the gardens I silently stray'd,  
I heard a fair maid making great lamentation,  
_Crying, Jimmy will be slain in the wars I'm afraid."

Haley kept singing the song softly, aware that her voice wasn't as beautiful as her mother's or Elan's, but not caring in the least. She concentrated solely on the lyrics and the story they told. It was a sad story. It made her cry when she was a little girl when she first realized what it meant. Right now, it was her lifeline.

"Haley."

Her father started pulling at the bars, his body so thin that his bones were visible under his skin, his pitted eyes staring at her, resentment growing like a fire. "I suppose I couldn't even trust the people _in_ the family."

"_The blackbirds and thrushes sang in the green bushes;  
The wood doves and larks seem'd to mourn for the maid;  
And this song that she sang was concerning her lover;  
_O Jimmy will be slain in the wars I'm afraid."

"Haley."

"Haley."

Too many of them. They were blurring together, or maybe that was just the tears welling up. The area behind her right eye started to throb. Her hands were shaking. The lyrics. Concentrate on the lyrics.

"_Her cheeks blushed like roses, her arms full of posies,  
She stray'd in the meadows and, weeping, she said:  
My heart it is aching, my poor heart is breaking,  
_For Jimmy will be slain in the wars I'm afraid."

"Pay attention!"

A familiar goblin and Vaarsuvius were lying intertwined on the ground. Vaarsuvius was sleeping or trancing or whatever elves did. Haley looked down blankly, her father glaring down at the two lovers. The goblin looked up from tenderly stroking the trancing elf's face with a claw, one eye wide in surprise and mouth open slightly to speak.

"It's… it's not what it—"

Haley covered her ears, blurted something about 'damn illusions,' and kept walking, turning her eyes back forward and sternly ignoring everything but what was ahead of her. This dungeon could do a lot, but she refused to let it take her sanity.

"_When Jimmy returned with his heart full of burning,  
He found his dear Nancy all dead in her grave  
He cried: I'm forsaken, my poor heart is breaking,  
O would that I never had left this fair maid!_"

Redcloak stared after the thief in confusion, subconsciously holding Vaarsuvius closer and curling around his partner protectively.

"Redcloak?" Vaarsuvius blearily started blinking, shifting to look and see who was singing. "What…?"

"Just go back to sleep. Nothing's happening."

Vaarsuvius murmured softly, cuddling closer and lightly brushing warm lips against the goblin's collarbone. Redcloak stiffened, gasping softly in surprise, but the elf was trancing again.

The elf was still shaking gently in the goblin's arms. Residuals from that weird vision of blood or trails of nightmares? Redcloak didn't know. He only knew that his partner was distressed, and for some reason, this idea made him ache and want to make whatever was causing it to go away. He wanted Vaarsuvius to smile again. He wanted to smooth the marks of exhaustion and strain that he saw written all over the trancing face. He wanted to make sure that the elf had no reason to scream or shake ever again.

He knew better than to even dream that he could do any of that, though. When they last parted, Redcloak had let go of any power he had over the elf's happiness, if he had any power in the first place. Most likely, the next time he would see Vaarsuvius smile would be during the inevitable battle they'd have to have, if then.

Redcloak knew what a fool he was. He knew how lovesick he had become. He was actually musing over how much he would like to see a particular elf smile when he should be ripping that same elf's throat open. It was pathetic. It was absolutely and completely pathetic.

And yet he didn't care as long as he was still with Vaarsuvius.

He gently kissed Vaarsuvius's forehead and pulled the slender body close, drifting back to sleep.

---

Vaarsuvius shifted, body colder than it should have been, and blinked awake to see why. A fire crackled cheerfully, starting to restore heat, but the weird stone cavern that the elf was in was so dark and cold that it seemed to literally suck away resources such as light and warmth.

Redcloak glanced up from the fire. "I think that this dungeon is going to be harder to deal with than we thought. It changed while we were unconscious." He hid his shivering, but it was obvious to the elf. "Would you like something to eat?"

"I am not particularly hungry, thank you." Vaarsuvius sat up, wordlessly sidling up to the goblin's side. Both could easily use the excuse of 'it's warmer to be together by the fire'. Neither would think too hard about it. "I did not expect to spend another night together, I must admit."

"It was safest." Redcloak glanced at the elf, shivers starting to recede with the heat from the mammal. "Are you sure you don't want something to eat? You look a little thinner than the last time I saw you."

"It has only been a week. Two at most." Vaarsuvius stared deep in the fire, ignoring twinges of pain from a small abdomen and breasts.

"Which is why you shouldn't have a discernable difference and the fact that you do is troublesome."

Vaarsuvius allowed a vaguely amused smirk out. "Are you going to continue giving me lectures about my health if I do not eat?"

"Probably. It looks like we'll have to stick together until we have some sense of where we are again at any rate."

"Very well then." Vaarsuvius unhooked a travel pack from slender hips, opening it up and taking a small apple out. "Satisfied?" The elf elegantly took a bite, arching one purple eyebrow.

"Not really, but we can work on it."

"You are acting like my nursemaid again."

"Call it a cleric's instinct. When you start taking care of yourself, I'll stop trying to."

Vaarsuvius smirked, starting to lean against Redcloak's side and affectionately stroking his hand. It wasn't prudent. They should be as far apart as possible. The elf knew it but didn't really care. The weight in the mage's abdomen was too heavy to carry alone. "I am a fully grown elf. You should acknowledge that."

"Believe me, I know." Redcloak smiled down at Vaarsuvius, inexplicable warmth growing within at the elf's touch. "You just don't take care of yourself."

Vaarsuvius took another bite of the apple, stifling a wince at a flicker of pain in the small abdomen. Redcloak frowned, reaching up to touch the elf's face. "Vaarsuvius, are you okay?"

The elf's lips pursed. In a flash, Vaarsuvius was back to emotional distance and the pale hand left Redcloak's, leaving both of them conspicuously farther apart. "I am fine, Redcloak."

Vaarsuvius stood, finishing off the apple and tightening the red robe around the slim body. "We should part. It is dangerous for us to be together for any prolonged amount of time."

"Wait a second, what's with the sudden change of heart?" Redcloak stood up, frowning suspiciously and tensing. The elf was hiding something. "Vaarsuvius, I'm a cleric. If you're hurt, I can help you."

"You are an enemy cleric who should be Inflicting Wounds on me. Our relationship was convoluted from the start and encouraging it is, quite simply, one of the most foolhardy things we can do."

Redcloak frowned, gently looping his arms around the elf's waist and bringing their bodies up against each other. "Vaarsuvius, don't be like that. Is there something wrong?"

"Redcloak, if you continue touching me, I will unleash my not-inconsiderable power and destroy you where you stand." Pain started ripping through the elf's abdomen, clenching up and forcing Vaarsuvius to tense with pursed lips. "Get away from me now."

The goblin frowned, the scientist and the person both telling him to do very different things. One told him to let the source of his confusion go and continue down its spiral of self destruction. The other told him to forget the complications and help _her_ through whatever has been plaguing her since before they knew each other. No one should suffer through so much pain, both psychological and physical. A third voice, somehow vastly more powerful than the unsuspecting previous two, reared up and demanded that he remove any sort of harmful influence from his mate's body and the vicinity. No discussion was allowed.

"Cure Moderate Wounds."

The pain disappeared. It happened suddenly, making the elf go completely limp and make no sound.

"Vaarsuvius…"

The elf squirmed out of the goblin's grip. "Thank you." Vaarsuvius spun around, frowning, and backed away. "You are still a fool for it."

Redcloak shook his head, rubbing his temples in frustration. "Alright. I'm an idiot. We've gone over that." He let his hands drop and he stared at the elf, frowning, something pulling at his cleric instinct. He had never specialized in healing, but he was a decent doctor and there was something about Vaarsuvius that looked odd.

She seemed much brighter despite her lack of sleep and food, the person pointed out in confusion. She looked different. Something that he couldn't quite place.

The scientist shrugged his shoulders, mentioning the fact that that could just be his imagination. Either way, something was wrong with the elf. Either way, he shouldn't care.

The third voice receded back into the darkness, provoking nervous glances from the other two parts of his personality. It only growled softly, telling him to make sure that his mate was not in danger.

Vaarsuvius noticed the close examination and instinctively drew back, covering the thin figure with equally thin arms, glaring. Redcloak's suspicions of the elf hiding something were cemented.

"Vaarsuvius, I'm not safe for you, but I'm going to tell you when you shouldn't trust me and when you can. I'm not your group's healer, but I'm still a cleric and, no matter how stupid it is, I care enough to want you to be healthy." It was an understatement, but Redcloak knew that it was all Vaarsuvius would allow without turning heel and running away. Even then, the elf looked unnerved by the declaration of 'caring.' Redcloak held out his hands, palms-up, and slowly started walking towards the elf. "You're a private person. I am too. If you don't want to tell me what's wrong, just stay with me until we figure out where we are and tell me if you need healing. That's all you need to do."

"Stop treating me with tenderness, Redcloak. Stop caring about me." Guilt twisted in Vaarsuvius's abdomen. The goblin was offering so much to an elf that was hiding his own child from him. Vaarsuvius truly believed that this was a matter only of the elf's body, but the mage was well-aware that Redcloak had a right to know. This whole thing was a grievous injury done to the goblin. And he was still giving kindness.

Not that Vaarsuvius would, under any circumstances, _tell_ him.

"I think I remember this."

"Redcloak, just stay aw—"

Redcloak touched Vaarsuvius's cheek, giving the elf room to pull away if the contact was unwanted, and pressed their lips together gently. "Vaarsuvius…"

"Redcloak, please, stop…" Vaarsuvius looped delicate arms around the goblin's neck, kissing back desperately. The weight in the elf's abdomen eased. The fear and stress was gone. Redcloak had taken it away.

The elf pulled back, pushing the goblin gently. "We will not be able to stop ourselves. Do not do this."

Redcloak didn't allow his feelings to cross his expression. He lightly stroked the elf's face, his eye glowing dimly in the darkness. "Fine."

He let the mage go and picked up a stick from the ground (Vaarsuvius distractedly examined their surroundings to see piles of wood and sticks mysteriously lined against the stone walls) and rolled the burning logs in their fire away from each other to slowly lose the flames. He picked up their bags from the ground, slinging his own over his shoulder and giving the other to the elf. "I don't know how long we were sleeping. It looks like the dungeon changed itself to disorient us."

Vaarsuvius numbly touched a slightly swollen abdomen, tentatively allowing Blackwing to pop into existence on a tiny shoulder. The raven gave the elf a sharp nip on a pointy ear, a silent reprimand for the rampant foolishness, and quickly followed up with fluffed feathers.

The elf winced but didn't make comment. Redcloak glanced back, an amused smirk playing over his face, but a powerful instinct embedded in all goblin men forced him to snake an arm around Vaarsuvius's waist protectively. "Stay close. I have no desire to deal with a vision from either of us again."

Vaarsuvius's mouth opened to protest the unnecessary contact, but the pointed ears twitched when they heard a gentle rumble originating deep in the goblin's chest. It was an odd combination of a growl and a purr.

The elf shifted uncomfortably, frowning in confusion and trying to bring up any memories of goblin biology or culture. Of course, of that topic, humanoids were woefully ignorant. Vaarsuvius knew so little, unless…

_"Wait, so babies grow _inside_ the females?" Vaarsuvius looked at Aarindarius in horror, squirming and touching her own tiny abdomen in dread. "Does that mean that I am going to need to carry a baby inside?"_

_"If you wish for biological children, that is the most likely scenario, little Suvie." Aarindarius smiled sympathetically, closing the biology textbook they were reading._

_"And we need to _bleed_ every month to dispose of material we don't need if we do not start growing children?!" Vaarsuvius kept staring as Aarindarius slowly bobbed his head. "What do the males have to deal with to make this fair?!"_

_"Well, besides the initial fertilization, biology asks little of us." Aarindarius smiled sympathetically and gently picked up the child, placing her in his lap so she could see the next biology book better as he opened it up. "Culturally, of course, the male parent of an elven child is expected to support the female and provide her with love, affection, and anything else she asks for during the pregnancy. And then he is expected to be there and hold her hand during childbirth." _

_Vaarsuvius blinked in indignation. "That hardly seems to equal to the hardship the female suffers!" _

_"Well, of course not. That is why our culture gives a certain amount of responsibility to the male." Aarindarius stifled a chuckle at his apprentice's thoroughly cross expression, kissing her head lightly. "Ah, little Suvie. You are still not satisfied? Well, there are certain species and cultures that give even more responsibility to the male. Among seahorses, the male is the one to carry the children to term."_

_"Seahorses are not sapient, Aarindarius." Vaarsuvius still looked bitter._

_This time, Aarindarius actually let himself chuckle, earning a small glare from his apprentice. "Vaarsuvius, humanoids on the whole tend towards patriarchy. Not all cultures or species, but most. I fear that females drew the short straw when it came to biology, but in exchange, they often have a very deep connection with their children. Males are not incapable of gaining the same connection, but it seems to be instinctive among females." He leaned back, keeping the child in his lap and his arms around a slender waist. "Goblinoids seem to tend more towards equality between genders, and in cases of pregnancy, become somewhat matriarchal."_

_Vaarsuvius perked in interest._

_"Ah, I have gotten your attention." Recognizing a chance to appease his apprentice, Aarindarius tightened his grip gently and stroked the child's hair. "I know little about bugbears and orcs. Hobgoblin society, as far as I know, makes special accommodations for pregnant hobgoblin women that not even small children enjoy." _

_He lovingly tucked a tendril of purple hair behind the child's ear. "Goblins seem to have a more… innate response to pregnancy. When the female is impregnated, she becomes more aggressive and is provided a knife from her male to protect herself. Male goblins are interesting. Even if they are not informed that their mate is pregnant, they develop an extreme sense of protectiveness and a need for closeness. It's a very base instinct that most goblin children aren't informed of, as far as I know. I only know as much as I do by virtue of a close friend of mine who happens to be an anthropologist specializing in reptilian societies."_

_"So the males get protective? That does not seem so different from the elven response." Vaarsuvius stubbornly crossed thin arms. "How does biology bring them in equality to the females' hardships?"_

_"It is difficult to say as I have never witnessed it myself, but it seems the goblin males have a chemical need to become viciously protective of their female as soon as they catch scent of the pheromones pregnant women give off, starting around their second week. It is primal, but goblin society in general tends toward the primal." Aarindarius stroked the apprentice's hair gently. "Little Suvie, I hope dearly that you will never experience this feeling, yet at the same time I dearly hope that you will. There are certain instincts that no living being can shake that override all common sense and survival urges. Among those instincts are the instinct for a parent to protect their child, and apparently, the instinct for a goblin male to protect his pregnant partner. These are dangerous feelings. These are also testimony to true love." _

_Aarindarius affectionately squeezed the child's hand. "But enough about goblin instinct. While we are talking about reproduction, I should tell you about the methods to avoid conception. I am loath to send any child into the world without at least basic knowledge in the area."_

Vaarsuvius blinked at the realization, then heaved a soft sigh, glancing over at Redcloak as they began to walk. Redcloak was the heart of Lawfulness, civilization, and calculation, yet the soft growling purr in his chest and the arm wrapped securely around the elf's waist as they moved reminded Vaarsuvius that he was not exempt from the primal urges of his species.

This wasn't good.


	7. Chapter 7

"Roy? Roy, honey, wake up."

Roy blinked awake slowly, yawning and stretching his arms over his head. Sun fell on the foot of his blue bed, the sound of morning songbirds filtering through from outside. The door to his room opened up, two little brown and green bundles tripping over each other to jump up on top of him. "Roy! Roy!"

"It's time for the strawberry picking, Roy! Mommy promised that she'd make strawberry shortcake if we got enough!"

Roy laughed, plucking his siblings from the bed and hugging them tightly. "Alright, alright, I'm up, you little scamps!"

Julia, only three next to Eric's eight and Roy's fifteen, giggled and planted a wet kiss on her eldest brother's cheek. "Roy! Hurry up an' get dressed! You're sleeping all day!"

Eric nodded eagerly. "It's almost noon!"

"Come on, kids. Let your big brother get ready." Sara Greenhilt looked through the door, smiling in amusement and clicking her fingers for the two young children to come back to her. "Roy, your father is downstairs getting the baskets ready. We can go as soon as you're dressed and your teeth are brushed."

Roy jumped out of the bed, catching his little brother in a small noogie before shoving him out the door with a chuckle. "Come on, you kids. Time to let me to the bathroom."

"Whatever you say, sleepy-head."

Eric and Julia grasped hands, giggling, and stumbled down the hall. Roy smiled, ducking out of the way before his mother could grab a brush to touch up his hair, and walked to the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

He stretched again, looking at the mirror to examine himself for zits. A gentle feeling of bliss settled in his stomach, as though he had been given what he was always missing. He didn't understand where the feeling came from, but he was happy, and that was all that mattered.

Roy took out his toothbrush and squeezed a little toothpaste on it.

---

The only sign of Aarindarius's feelings was the fact that his knuckles were white around his mug of tea as he listened to the hysterical Inkyrius tell the story of how the one he had watched grow and learn since her birth turned evil and obliterated an entire third of a population in front of their screaming children before disappearing.

His instinct was to deny the possibility. The beautiful, curious, intelligent elf that he had practically raised couldn't possibly be so depraved. No. It couldn't happen.

But Inkyrius would never lie.

"Why did you wait so long until you came to me?" he asked softly, his eyes on his tea, his expression difficult to read.

Inkyrius sniffed, scrubbing the tears away roughly. "I… I thought I could make Suvie come back… so we could talk… she wasn't making sense… I-I thought that I could convince her to come home, or at least explain why she did what she did…" The elf let out another sob. "I filed for divorce. I thought that she would come back for the hearing and I could talk to her then. But she didn't come back. She signed the papers and she didn't come back!"

The baker dissolved into a storm of sobbing. Aarindarius looked up slowly, reaching out and touching Inkyrius's shoulder, gaze distant. "Vaarsuvius loved you."

"Not anymore, apparently." Inkyrius sniffed bitterly, trembling, face red. "Sometimes, I wonder if she loved me at all."

"I can't be a judge of her feelings." Aarindarius looked down at the ground. "Vaarsuvius is very single-minded about her tasks. You know that."

"To the point where she will throw away our family?!" Inkyrius stood up sharply, starting to pace around the study. "What could be so important?! Our children are asking me when their Other Parent is coming back. What should I tell them?!"

"Inkyrius, calm yourself." Aarindarius knew that it was cold, but he didn't feel up to trying to comfort someone else when the shock was hardening in his stomach. "There must be an explanation. Do not give up on her."

"I can't do this anymore!" Inkyrius sat back down, overcome by another wave of sobs. "The neglect, the time away from home, the distractedness… It hurts, but I can explain it away as Vaarsuvius being Vaarsuvius. But leaving after that, when our children's legs are broken and they're crying? After I ask her to stay home? Then just… signing the papers and disappearing from our lives?" More sobs. "Power. That's Vaarsuvius's true love. Not you or me or the children but power. Maybe it's best that she signed. I can't be second in her life."

Aarindarius stifled a wince. He had seen that ambition in the little nineteen-year-old child he had first taken as an apprentice. He had nursed it. Encouraged it. Fostered it. Ambition and pride were virtues, he had thought, but he didn't see how out of control it had become.

It was partially his fault that this elf he loved had spiraled down such a path. He subconsciously started biting his knuckle, a habit he had thought he had broken. He had failed Vaarsuvius for the third time.

"Inkyrius, if what you say is true, it means that Vaarsuvius felt that she had other responsibilities. Her judgment may have been clouded because of the splices and she may have just wanted to keep the power for a longer time, but that is not the only thing that may have happened. We do not know her circumstances. We have not seen her for the past six years. She may have actually felt that she had to do something else before she let the power go for a valid reason." Aarindarius fingered his mug and bit down harder. He knew that he was making up excuses. They were valid, but he knew that he simply didn't want to imagine his old apprentice as the monster Inkyrius had described. "Did you use instant summons for the papers?"

"Of course." Inkyrius sniffed. "I wanted her home as fast as possible."

"Why did it take so long to get a response?"

"The agency said that she was hard to find. None of their divination spells were sensing her until two days ago."

"Why would she be hard to find?"

"I…" Inkyrius sniffed again. "I don't know."

Aarindarius nodded slowly, frowning at his tea. "Take care of your children, Inkyrius. I think that I am going to try to find out more about what my old apprentice has been doing for these past few years."

---

_the head's lips were still moving dear elven gods why were they moving the elf couldn't do anything couldn't he see the elf was useless useless USELESS USELESS the blood was everywhere it hurt so much to smell the lips were still moving it was impossible to breathe or dear elven gods Vaarsuvius was going insane and deserved it these people shouldn't be dying VAARSUVIUS IS GOING INSANE INSANE INSANE LOOK AT ALL THE BLOOD INSANE THE BLOOD IS EVERYWHERE INSANE_

_Sickening sucking sound of metal sinking into flesh. The woman was down. Her eyes were dripping with hate the look hurt so much… "Elf, if you're still here…"_

_Blood blooming blooming like a flower insane why couldn't the elf help insane help HELP magic was supposed to help CONTROL why spend so much time getting more power POWER hold her hand why couldn't the elf hold her hand HUBRIS so many people should be able to save them should be able to save them WORTHLESS_

_"I hope you choke on your useless goddamn magic…" _

_HELP _

_BLOOD _

_CONTROL _

_BLOOD _

_POWER _

_BLOOD_

_HUBRIS _

_BLOOD _

_WORTHLESS_

_BLOOD BLOOD BLOOD EVERYWHERE EVERYWHERE _

_the children are screaming Suvie_

_EVERYWHERE_

_the voices are murmuring in your ears_

_EVERYWHERE_

_you're dying Suvie_

_EVERYWHERE_

_you're all alone_

_  
EVERYWHERE_

_you can't protect anyone you love_

_EVERYWHERE_

_there's nothing left _

_EVERYWHERE_

_there's nothing left to fight for_

_EVERYWHERE_

_there's nothing left to live for_

_EVERYWHERE_

_there's nothing left to die for_

_EVERYWHERE_

_you're going insane Suvie_

_EVERYWHERE_

_you're going insane_

_VAARSUVIUS, WAKE UP!_

Vaarsuvius jerked forward, screaming, and the world changed with the pitch. Screaming children. Crucified mate. Dark room with teenage elf reaching out. Dead Azure soldiers. Blood. So much blood.

"Vaarsuvius, snap out of it!"

The elf's face was slapped hard and everything slammed back into focus.

Vaarsuvius let out a strangled sound, shaking violently, and threw delicate arms around Redcloak's neck, pressing their bodies close and concentrating solely on keeping the scraps of sanity together.

The world had changed around them again. They were in a forest with giant redwood trees reaching up and completely covering the sky with their leaves, upper canopy so thick that not even beams of light could escape.

And like deranged Christmas ornaments, bodies that were too in shadow to recognize hanged from the upper branches, their legs hanging limp under them, their necks at various odd angles or their faces blown up and blue like balloons, ropes tying them tightly to the trees by their throats.

Someone sat atop the grotesquely decorated branches, long hair obscuring their face, something bundled in blankets cradled in their arms. It was too dark to see who or what it was, yet, despite the fact that it was several stories up, Vaarsuvius could hear its soft, dark voice. It was singing. It was too murmured to distinguish the words, but it sent chills down the elf's spine nonetheless.

Vaarsuvius swallowed slowly, eyes fixed on the bodies hanging from the branches, retinas burned with the image of the dead and sinuses holding in the scent of blood and sulfur. Sanity had been left in tiny little scraps. Mental defenses quickly started trying to sew up the pieces, trying to mend what was lost, but the elf knew that they wouldn't be able to fix everything again after this. It was too much. The scraps had barely remained in snippets big enough to reattach.

A wind rushed through, making the bodies swing and hit each other like wind chimes from hell.

"Vaarsuvius, what do you see?"

The elf looked at Redcloak blankly. The goblin looked strained. Tired. Haunted. His eye wasn't looking at the branches, but at the ground.

They weren't seeing the same horrors.

"Bodies. Hanging from the branches." Vaarsuvius looked up at the trees, any semblance of pride and collectedness leaking out and splashing on the grass like the blood of soldiers. "I… when I was a child… on my first trip into town without my master or my parents, I became lost. I went into an open house to ask for directions. I had seen my parents and master do it all the time—it was normal in my village." Vaarsuvius continued staring at the bodies blankly. "I heard something in the basement and I became curious. When I checked to see what it was, I saw an elf my age with a rope around his neck and tying him to the ceiling. He was still alive. He saw me. His face was so swollen and purple and his arms were flailing and his lips were moving to speak…" The elf stopped for a moment. "I did not know what was happening. I had been sheltered from the world. I had only a rudimentary grasp of what death was, and no idea of the possibility of suicide. I could have saved him had a known just a little more. I did not. He is dead."

_If only you had more knowledge. __he wouldn't be dead you would have saved him If only you had more power.__ the soldiers would be alive they wouldn't be massacred If only you had more wisdom. __Kyrie and the children wouldn't be gone_

_You see how many people you have failed with your lacking?_

Redcloak's grip around the elf tightened substantially, his hand coming up and physically turning the elf's head away from the branches. "Don't look at them."

Vaarsuvius obediently did as Redcloak told, no strength left to argue. "What do _you_ see?"

The goblin hesitated, his grip tightening further. "Massacred goblins. Everywhere."

_BLOOD BLOOD EVERYWHERE_

With the renewed shaking from the elf, Redcloak started stroking Vaarsuvius's hair and back, trying to provide some form of heat. "Who do you recognize, Redcloak?"

Another hesitation. "My little sister. My big brother. My parents. My uncle. My little brother's wife. His kids." Another pause. "My little brother…"

Vaarsuvius felt Redcloak's chest heave. It was silent. It was subtle. It was impossible to misconstrue.

Even though he showed no other signs, he was crying without tears.

Vaarsuvius looked up, eyes getting suspiciously glassy, and kissed Redcloak passionately. Enough with complication. Enough with alignment differences. Enough with all that. Vaarsuvius did not _care_ anymore.

Redcloak kissed back, eager for anyone to cling to to help ease the raw pain inside. The bodies and blood and horror faded away to mist. It was over then, but it would come back. That was okay. If they were together, they could work through whatever was thrown their way.

The pain in the elf's abdomen was eased as pale hands started to fumble with the string holding the red robe together.

Up above, a creature that hadn't disappeared with the others continued cradling whatever was bundled in the blankets, humming ever so softly and watching the lovers with black eyes.


	8. Chapter 8

"Whoa!"

Redcloak and Vaarsuvius both jerked awake at the voice, looking up and letting out twin yelps, both trying to conceal their bodies. Tsukiko stared in shock, then promptly devolved into laughter. "By the twelve gods! We haven't been here for a day and you two are already banging each other? I didn't know you were so horny, Reddy. Keep it in your pants once in a while."

Both lovers scowled at her while they grabbed their clothes, covering themselves as best they could. "Avert your eyes."

Tsukiko let out a cackling laugh, ignoring the pointed command and looking both of them up and down. "Nice, Reddy. So she's a girl after all."

Vaarsuvius looked up and glared fiercely, raising one hand. "Blindness."

"Hey!" Tsukiko backed up a step, waving her hands in front of her newly filmed-over eyes. "No fair!"

"Perfectly fair, Tsukiko." Redcloak shot Vaarsuvius an amused smile, stealing a quick silent kiss while the unwelcome Theurge still couldn't see them. Vaarsuvius smiled, quickly putting on discarded undergarments. Their time to be intimate together was over, but they were still with each other.

"You'd better not get it on while I can't watch!"

Redcloak rolled his eye, pulling on his pants and shirt. "You know, there are some situations where you're not supposed to keep talking."

"Like when you're nailing your whore?"

Something weird happened among the conflicting parts of Redcloak's personality. The suspicious third in his mind lashed out, demanding that he protect his mate, knocking the person and scientist to the ground and out of their bored daze. The goblin stiffened in surprise, trying to rein in the new voice. "She is not a whore."

Vaarsuvius glanced at him, eyebrow arched. Redcloak shrugged, averting his gaze, trying to stifle the new furious urge inside of him. The elf touched his shoulder, an odd amount of understanding (and maybe a little guilt?) in violet eyes, and kissed him softly again.

"Yeah, yeah, sure. The girl who'll blow whoever can keep her out of a torture chamber is totally not a whore."

Redcloak tensed up, the third voice, the instinct, roaring for the blind Theurge's blood. Vaarsuvius stroked his shoulder, keeping him grounded, forcing the fierce hostility to drain. The elf frowned in concern, putting loose hair into a ponytail, slipping on a red robe and picking the goblin's cloak from the ground, giving it to him quietly.

The goblin smoothed his expression, taking his cloak and putting it on, doing up the clasp.

"Are you guys _dressed_ yet? I don't like being blind!"

Redcloak entertained the idea of letting Tsukiko stay under Vaarsuvius's spell, but he knew that she was useful for him and Xykon. He touched the Theurge's shoulder lightly, murmuring the needed spell under his breath.

Tsukiko's mismatched eyes lost the magical film, making her pull away and shake her head. "Alright, Casanova. Are we going to gut your whore or what?"

The goblin instinctively wrapped his arms around the elf, bringing Vaarsuvius close and a growl rumbling in his chest. Redcloak caught himself, frowning in confusion, and loosened his grip, forcing the growl to recede. "We don't need to kill her."

Tsukiko raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "We need to get you some goblin woman. Seriously. Why shouldn't we slit her throat then turn her into a zombie? I mean, you can still get your rocks off if she's dead."

Both Redcloak and Vaarsuvius jerked in disgust, the growl in the goblin's chest returning threefold. The elf subtly stroked the goblin's hand, calming him down before he slashed the Theurge's face.

The scientist shoved against the instinct, standing up and shouting that this was not normal. The person jumped up, emphatically adding agreement. He was more controlled than this. It was harder to get him angry. And this weird need to make sure that Vaarsuvius was completely and utterly safe and unharmed was not usual. He had already had the desire, but he used to be able to control it. Vaarsuvius was fully-grown, capable of defending herself, and his enemy. He had been able to keep a lid on his wanting for the elf's safety before. Why was it so out of hand now?

Vaarsuvius snapped Redcloak out of that line of thought with a skeptical roll of the eyes towards Tsukiko. "It would be in your best interest to keep me alive. This is a dangerous area. The dungeon itself is trying to drive us insane or kill us, whichever is first. The more company provided, the better chance anyone of us has of retaining reason. In that way, I am helpful. If either of you attempt to kill me, I am perfectly content in reminding you that I am not a weakened prisoner any longer and that I have prepared all my spells. You both, working together, would undoubtedly be able to overwhelm me and perhaps even kill me, but I would put up enough of a struggle to damage you. Of course, before Redcloak could heal himself or heal you, the dungeon would take advantage of your weakness and somehow separate and destroy you both." The elf crossed thin arms. "So you would be unwise to try to kill me."

Tsukiko didn't seem to be listening too closely. She frowned, her mismatched eyes narrowing in concentration, and her head cocked. "Are you glowing?"

The elf blinked in surprise. "Has this place driven you mad already?"

"You're glowing."

"I am not preparing to use magic, so I do not see why." Vaarsuvius's ears twitched in irritation. Redcloak, calm now that there seemed to be no immediate danger (which was odd, considering the fact that Tsukiko usually jumped at the chance of killing someone, but he wasn't one to look the gift horse in the mouth), shrugged and gestured for them to start moving, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

"Tsukiko, you're imagining things. If we want to meet up with anyone else, our team or Vaarsuvius's, we'll need to try to get somewhere."

Tsukiko kept frowning in thought, even after the elf brushed past her to follow Redcloak. The Theurge turned around to start after them, then her eyes widened with realization.

After a moment, she broke out laughing. "By the twelve gods! This is so rich! You're glowing!"

Both Vaarsuvius and Redcloak glanced back at her, twin expressions of annoyance painted over their faces. "Tsukiko, if you're insane, then it'd be best to tell me."

"Don't trouble your little green head over it, Reddy." Tsukiko tittered, practically prancing after them. "It's a girl thing."

Vaarsuvius awkwardly edged away from Tsukiko, sticking close to Redcloak. Their hands brushed briefly before both drew away, staying at a safe distance to keep Tsukiko's giggles and taunts to a minimum, but staying close enough so that each knew the other was there. If the illusions came back, they were still together.

It was safe for now.

* * *

Haley looked around, licking her dry lips, tasting the faint trace of blood on them. She didn't know what was going on. Was the dungeon screwing with her head again? Was this real? Had she gone nuts?

Old houses made out of stone and dried clay protruding out of the ground itself surrounded her, empty windows looking more and more like mournfully gaping mouths and eyes. The sky was devoid of moon or stars. Sand from the surrounding desert blew gently through, but there was no heat. It was freezing cold.

Haley shook, her breath visible in a small cloud of mist, and she rubbed her arms, walking down the empty street. The darkness seemed almost tangible, something silky that she could run her fingers through and fall into, dropping into oblivion until her entire being was unraveled into one long strand of thread.

She rubbed her arms harder and tried to concentrate on what was in front of her. Maybe Elan or Vaarsuvius would be nearby. Maybe—

Someone slammed their hand over her mouth and dragged her into the darkness.

* * *

"Aarindarius, you know that I'd do anything for you, but you're asking me to go into sealed records."

Aarindarius didn't allow his frustration to show. He kept his arms crossed and his expression patient, something more likely to get the nervous, mouse-like elf in front of him at ease. "Aelius, I fear that this is my old apprentice that I am asking about. You know what Vaarsuvius means to me."

Aelius awkwardly shifted in his seat behind a desk over-stacked with boxes labeled with elven runes, pink hair stacked on his head, orange eyes nervously glancing away. "I know. Anyone who caught so much as a glance of you and that kid knows. But our ways of finding people to serve or summon are closed. We can't give out where anyone is freely."

Aarindarius ran a hand through lavender hair, still doing his best to keep his frustration inside. "Then do you know who I can speak to who can tell me more?"

"I can't give you names!" Aelius stood up, glancing around nervously and trying to usher the wizard out. "Listen, I know that the kid meant a lot to you, but I'm sure she'll turn up eventually. People come back to Ivyleaf. They get attached."

"Not Vaarsuvius." Aarindarius spun around, refusing to be pushed out. "If I do not find her, I doubt she will ever return." He took the other elf's cold hands tightly in his own. "Aelius, you have three daughters. What would you do if you thought they were in danger?"

The other elf yelped softly, shifting. "Danger?" The oddest distressed warble came from the back of his throat, reflecting his mood.

"Yes."

Aelius squirmed, looking away, until he twisted out of Aarindarius's grip. "I… I can give you the place we found her. And a couple of names of people who can tell you something about what she's been doing during the past year. We don't know anything about the five years before that." He started rummaging in the boxes that lined the walls, pulling out one labeled 'V-Z' and pulling off the top. "She made a bit of a splash in Azure City! I can tell you where the refugees from the battle settled. I think she traveled with them for a bit. I hope you have better luck in getting something out of their new lord, because he was pretty tight-lipped with us. His name is Lord Hinjo."

The elf pulled up a thin file with elven runes running all along the border, handing it over to the wizard. "Good luck with finding her, Aarindarius. I know you love her." He nervously pulled at a strand of his hair. "And be careful. The man we sent to serve her with divorce papers is still in the hospital with two clerics working on him."

Aarindarius paled, swallowing and taking the file slowly. A more observant elf would see that his hands were shaking. "Thank you, Aelius. I know how dangerous this is for you." He turned away. "And I hope that I do not need to be careful."

Then he was gone.

* * *

Something carefully walked along the branches, navigating past the ropes keeping up the hanged bodies, cradling a bundle wrapped in blankets in the crook of its right arm.

Under the branches, the world began to change.

The scent of blood rose with the temperature. The one in the shadows looked down to see two familiar people, hugging each other and trembling, the sand under their feet sticky and red with blood. One's mouth opened, then shut, then opened again, trying to speak even though that ability had been ripped away.

The one in the shadows sat down on the branch, swinging its legs back and forth, cradling its bundle gently in its arms. It sang in a soft, cooing voice to the bundle, running its fingers over the surface.

One of the people put their palms together, trembling, begging without words. Desolation surrounded them. Nothing but wasteland, each other, and the creature in the shadows.

The creature held up one hand and the sound of screams rose up from around them.

The creature's lips turned up in a smile.


	9. Chapter 9

"My foes dote on me more than my allies."

Vaarsuvius leaned against a tree trunk, staring up at the perpetually dark sky, half-eaten meal placed neatly on the ground. Blackwing, glad to be visible for once, was pecking at the forest floor, picking off little insects to eat. Tsukiko seemed fascinated by the raven, staring so hard that Blackwing actually flew to Vaarsuvius's lap to hide.

"Hey, just eat the whole thing. Anyone with the glow should have a bunch of healthy food."

Vaarsuvius's head shook a little, irritated, pale fingers absently running through Blackwing's feathers. "What is this 'glow' you keep speaking about?"

"The glow." Tsukiko grinned, glancing at Redcloak. "My mom worked with the glow a lot, and my sister had it all the time. I know when a girl has the glow."

Redcloak shook his head, adding a few sticks to the fire they sat around. "I suggest just eating it, Vaarsuvius. She's crazy, but she's stubborn. And she'll probably be talking about 'the glow' all night."

Vaarsuvius sighed irritably, leaning forward and taking the plate, quietly finishing the meal. "Are my nursemaids happy?"

Tsukiko shrugged, smirking and mismatched eyes flashing out of sync. "Hey, it's not because I like you. Mom always said to take care of women with the glow."

"I am not glowing."

"Yes you are." Tsukiko stood up, dusting herself off and stretching. "You both are boring. I'm going to go get some more firewood." She winked. "Don't let me catch you naked again. If I do, you'd better let me watch."

Redcloak and Vaarsuvius both glared at her fiercely, provoking a cackle as the Theurge walked into the forest. Blackwing looked between the elf and the goblin, squawked disapprovingly, and flew up into the great branches.

"I believe that he takes a dim view of our relationship," Vaarsuvius said, glancing up after the bird.

"Wisely." Redcloak sidled up closer to the elf, leaving a safe gap between them so Vaarsuvius could close it or leave it as wished. Vaarsuvius chose to close it.

The elf leaned on the goblin, lightly touching his hand and stroking it. Redcloak wrapped an arm around his lover's waist, smiling and a cross between a purr and a growl gently emanating from his chest. It was nice to be so close after trying so hard to be apart, and they both had to admit (at least to themselves) that last night would have been much more difficult without each other. They didn't need the words to say it, though.

They knew.

A flicker of pain went through the elf's abdomen and chest. Vaarsuvius gently slipped delicate arms around Redcloak's neck, resting a tired head against his shoulder. Guilt rumbled in the mage's heart, restricting the delicate throat, but Vaarsuvius would sooner die then ever tell Redcloak about the condition.

The goblin stroked the elf's back gently, completely content with their position and oblivious to the guilt next to him, but he knew well enough that it wouldn't last forever. "Vaarsuvius? Are you okay?"

Vaarsuvius looked up, eyebrow arched and jaw set. "Why do you ask?"

"I'm a cleric." Redcloak kept stroking the elf's back. "You were dizzy today. You needed to stop walking a lot. This isn't the first time that's happened—you've been doing that since we met up, and I'd guess you were doing it beforehand as well." He kissed Vaarsuvius's forehead, subtly feeling for a fever. "I can help you if you tell me what's wrong. Are you sick?"

"No, Redcloak. I am simply light-headed. This dungeon has not been good for me." The elf shifted, eyelashes lightly brushing against the goblin's skin. "I would prefer to not speak of it."

The goblin sighed, kissing the elf's forehead again. "Alright, then. As long as you're safe."

"Why would you care about my safety?"

Redcloak arched an eyebrow, looking down at the elf. "Aren't we past that?" He kissed Vaarsuvius, careful about putting too much emotion into it. He knew well enough that the elf barely permitted affection and caring. Vaarsuvius would never allow love. "I care about you. I want you to be safe. Whether or not that's realistic is up for debate." There was a note of dryness to his voice, diluting the concern enough so that the elf didn't put up a fuss.

"I care about you as well, but I fear the wisdom of admitting to it." Vaarsuvius kissed back gently, but it was still lacking the emotion that Redcloak had to hide. That was okay. He had never deluded himself into thinking that the elf could love him back. "We cannot forget that we are enemies."

"We haven't." Redcloak ran his hands along the elf's shoulder blades soothingly, parting their lips. "It doesn't mean that we have to focus on it for now. Leave it for when we have to fight."

A wry smile flickered on Vaarsuvius's mouth. "I hope you know how foolish you sound. When you mix sex and violence, it gets messy."

"I know." Redcloak pressed their lips together again. "We'll figure something out."

"We should not be continuing this." The elf pulled away, something a little reluctant to the gesture. "It will make it difficult for us in battle. I will not spare you again, no matter what happened between us. Will you?"

He paused for a second too long.

"Redcloak?"

"I won't." He frowned, looking away for a moment before glancing back. "It won't come to that, though." As if the affirmation of their alignments had made him more desperate for the mage's touch, Redcloak securely wrapped his arms around the elf, bringing Vaarsuvius on his lap and kissing the mage tenderly. "We'll be okay. I promise."

They both knew that he couldn't really promise that. Vaarsuvius got ready to scold him for it.

The elf just couldn't do it. In an illogical move, the mage accepted the promise, letting it soothe the ache in the swelling abdomen and back, and opened up for more intimacy from the goblin.

As the lovers started kissing more and more deeply, a certain Theurge clasped her hands and looked down at her feet from the tree she was eavesdropping behind, barely containing her titters. By the gods. The idiot had actually gone and fallen in love with the elf. It was _so_ obvious that she was stringing him along, too!

She used to think that Reddy was _savvy_, but she guessed that he'd gone so long without a lay that he was willing to believe whatever the hell the whore told him. The slut was using him to keep safe—a tactic that was smart, but underhanded. And perfectly hilarious for Tsukiko to watch.

And the glow. The _glow_. The whore probably didn't know that she was preggers yet. Well, that was what sluts got when they didn't cross their friggin' legs. And Reddy was going to be the daddy of the bastard. How cute.

She wondered if she should tell them, but oh! It was so hilarious to see Reddy all confused and worried about the whore's dizzy spells. Tsukiko would keep them in the dark for a little longer, if only to watch them squirm.

Stupid goblin. Falling in love? Getting the whore knocked up? The _enemy?_ They both totally deserved whatever hilarious misfortune they brought on themselves.

And she wasn't averse to helping said misfortune come along.

With that, she left to find some wood.

* * *

Belkar crouched, glaring, his daggers poised. "What are you?"

The creature sauntered forward slowly.

"Hey! Stay where you are!"

Mr. Scruffy mewled loudly, fearfully hiding behind Belkar's leg. The creature started going faster, a simple silver chain with a heart, looped for strangulation, appearing in its hand.

"Stop!"

The creature smirked darkly.

Belkar would never be able to strike it.

Belkar recoiled, darkness coming on with only a desperate meow from his cat.

* * *

"Who are you?"

Aarindarius looked up from his seat on a blue chair, closing his spell book and tucking it away in his robes, eyes settling patiently on the confused young man in the doorway.

The man was clad in blue armor and couldn't have been past his mid-twenties. One hand was resting on the hilt of his katana, his stance guarded but not openly hostile.

The wizard smiled, having the grace to look sheepish, and stood up. "My apologies for making myself at home in your living room. I attempted to enter through your guards, but I found that rather difficult so I resorted to teleportation." He came forward, keeping a safe enough distance so there wasn't any need for the man to jump back in defense. "My name is Aarindarius. If I have intruded on the correct household, you are Lord Hinjo of Azure City?"

"Yes. I am." Hinjo warily edged towards the fire. "May I ask why you are here?"

Aarindarius smiled again. "I am a friend of Vaarsuvius."

Hinjo immediately relaxed, his hand dropping from the hilt of his katana, but he obviously hadn't completely let his guard down. Aarindarius understood. He wouldn't instantaneously trust a stranger who had teleported into his home either. "Vaarsuvius! Well, welcome, Aarindarius. Vaarsuvius helped the Azurites more than I can say." The paladin gestured for the wizard to sit down. "Make yourself comfortable." He politely ignored the fact that the wizard had already gone and done that.

They both sat down across from each other, Aarindarius crossing his legs and keeping his gaze impassive. "I came to ask after Vaarsuvius, actually. She has been away from our village for many years, and the news we have received regarding her has been fragmented and outlandish. I wished to make sure that she was still alive, as well as see her and see if she if she is recognizable as the elf that left us." He allowed another sheepish smile to cross his lips. "I fear that I watch too much after those that are close to me. I am sure that my concerns are unfounded."

Hinjo's eyes sharpened slightly, obviously picking up on the fact that Aarindarius wasn't sharing something, but he let it go. "Well, Vaarsuvius was alive last I saw. That was roughly a month and a half ago. We traveled together for quite some time, but I can't tell you much about him."

Aarindarius spent less than a second wondering about the error in pronouns—he had found that non-Ivyleaf natives did that a lot. He arched an eyebrow, clasping his hands on his knee and keeping his knuckle away from his teeth. "Oh?"

"He spent a lot of his time working on spells to find a part of his adventuring party that we separated from in Azure city."

Aarindarius cocked his head curiously.

"He's become part of an adventuring party since you last saw him. They are a good group—heroes of Azure City." Hinjo put his hand on his knee, smiling with a hint of wariness in his eyes. "If I may ask, how do you know Vaarsuvius? Are you his spouse?"

Aarindarius covered his mouth, stifling a laugh. "No, I am not." His eyes on the surface were merry, but if Hinjo looked deep enough, he could see a core of worry and seriousness. "But Vaarsuvius and I are rather close. Do you know where I could find her?"

Hinjo hesitated, shifting suspiciously, trying to weigh the elf before him. Did he trust it or not? "…Last time I saw him, he was leaving to go to Sandsedge. I can't tell you much about where he may have gone beyond there." Can't, won't, it was all the same. He had told the stranger enough.

Aarindarius dipped his head, noting that the paladin was hiding something but unwilling to press him for anymore information due to the circumstances. "Thank you kindly." He smiled and stood up. "I shall see myself out."

He did.


	10. Chapter 10

"Oh dear elven gods…"

"By the Dark One…"

Vaarsuvius and Redcloak both reached out and held each other's hand tightly, completely uncaring about Tsukiko's presence.

The abandoned desert town lay in the valley they gazed upon, the sand stained with blood, and people, both goblin and humanoid, lay in desolate carnage. Broken bodies, some belonging to children and elderly, were strewn across the ground, dark against the sand's beige. The smell of rot rose in the wake of the hot sun, making both of them recoil, yet despite the heat, they felt very cold.

There were familiar faces among the fallen.

"What are you guys looking at?"

Neither the mage nor the cleric could tear their eyes away. Redcloak made a simple sweeping motion towards the bloodshed, completely silent.

Tsukiko stepped up next to them, frowning towards the bodies. "I don't see anything."

* * *

Both the goblin and the elf looked up and stared at Tsukiko, shocked. The Theurge frowned in confusion, taking another cursory glance around the stone room they had come into, noting that the phosphorescence wasn't present in the rock anymore. "Are you talking about the light? Sure, it's bad, but I don't see any 'shock' issues with it…"

"Tsukiko, I'm not in the mood for your games."

"_What_ games?" Tsukiko walked forward to the center of the room, holding up her hands. "There's nothing here!"

She turned around only to see that her companions had disappeared.

* * *

Vaarsuvius frowned in confusion when the Theurge disappeared. "Redcloak…"

"I saw."

Redcloak subconsciously wrapped his arms around the elf, drawing Vaarsuvius close with a protective growl rising in his chest, ears twitching with wariness and confusion.

He caught himself a moment later. Marveling at the weird turn of behavior within him, he let the mage go, clearing his throat and not noticing the slightly guilty expression on his lover's face. "Sorry. Anyway, it looks like the dungeon took her away. I'm not worried about her. She can handle herself, and it doesn't look like this place is targeting her for trauma." _…Like it is for us._

Both Vaarsuvius and Redcloak stared down at the battlefield.

The elf took the goblin's hand again, allowing a small squeeze of comfort. "It is only further proof that none of this is real. Let us continue—as the horrors mount, it should be a sign that we are closer to our goal, whatever it has transformed into at this point."

"You're right."

They stayed still for a while before finally forcing themselves to start the arduous trek down into the carnage.

Vaarsuvius was well-aware of the fact that Redcloak had much more trauma associated with battlefields and the strewn bodies of men, women, and children. Keen pointed ears were able to pick up the slight hitches in the goblin's breathing, eyes able to pick out tense muscle spasms, as if Redcloak meant to run or break down.

The elf gently ran a hand across the goblin's shoulders, giving him a chaste kiss on the cheek. Vaarsuvius didn't know what else to do or what to say, so all there was to offer was the limited physical intimacy the elf was willing to give.

The goblin didn't look soothed. His only eye was glazed over with memory and Vaarsuvius could feel his body trembling. Was he suffering a flashback?

The elf was far too well-versed with that torture. Something had to be done. Enemy or no, the mage refused to let the cleric suffer the mental agony that came with memories of blood and helplessness.

The elf tried to think of something to snap him out of it.

Vaarsuvius stopped sharply, turning so the little body was in front of the broader one, and slapped him in the face. "Redcloak."

Redcloak jerked slightly, wincing in pain, somewhat roused from whatever memories were running through his head. Vaarsuvius cupped his face gently in cold hands, making sure that the goblin was not staring at the bodies. "Don't let Girard's illusions win. I am not above using spells to rouse you out of flashbacks."

The goblin was silent, but the film was gone from his eye, his gaze instead fixing on his lover's face. A smile of amusement flickered for a moment. He slowly slipped his arms around the elf's waist, hugging his lover tightly but briefly. He released the mage, looking calmer, and he rubbed the growing red mark on his cheek sheepishly.

"You've got an arm on you. Thanks." That made the elf's eyes roll a little, but the goblin's smile was genuine. "Let's go."

A ripple of pain ran through Vaarsuvius's abdomen.

The elf's smile fell away, guilt rolling in a furiously beating heart, and they both continued through the battlefield.

* * *

Elan kicked his legs over the side of the stone wall he was sitting on, eyes filmed over and mouth fixed in a vacant smile. He was talking lowly. To people who weren't there. People by the names of 'Nale,' 'Haley,' 'Mom,' and 'Dad.' Sometimes other names were there. 'Roy.' 'Durkon.' 'Vaarsuvius.' 'Belkar.'

The observer didn't care.

Darkness enveloped Elan, pulling him inside, but his smile remained in place.

* * *

Aarindarius remembered why he usually remained in his tower. He hated trying to needle people.

He had found seven people in all of his two weeks of searching that had sighted his apprentice and her mysterious party. Only a handful had been able to point him in any direction at all.

But he could sense a heavy concentration of magic. Illusory magic, if he ventured a guess. Its presence settled in his bones, strong with the scent of rosewood.

He decided to try that first.

* * *

The creature cradled its bundle lovingly, stroking the material that clothed it, spinning slowly on the branch it stood on. Someone whimpered pathetically on the ground, lightly clawing the bark to get the creature's attention. Wind blew the hanged bodies gently like wind chimes.

The creature glanced down, noting the blood on the other being's hands. The creature made a small gesture, dismissing.

The someone at the base of the tree struggled to wail, but it was unable to.

The creature simply smiled.

The someone's mute torment continued.


End file.
